


it's called a hustle, cupcake

by natcsharomanova



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: (Except they definitely are), Alternate Universe - Zootopia Fusion, And Carmilla and Laura are definitely not in love, F/F, In which Silas is Zootopia, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2018-12-09 23:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11679102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natcsharomanova/pseuds/natcsharomanova
Summary: Fourteen girls have gone missing in the city of Silas - a place where every creature under the moon and sun live together in harmony.No one at 'The Silas Voice' is willing to risk their new (fragile, human) intern, but Laura Hollis refuses to accept that she's bitten off more than she can handle, and knows she can help.After all, she's the only one who has a lead - a skulky vampire she met in an alleyway.





	1. make the world a better place [try, try, try]

_ Don’t cry Hollis. Don’t cry. No one else here is crying. You don’t have waterproof mascara. Just a few more minutes. Your Dad is filming this. You can do it. _

Laura anxiously shifted the yellow tassel on her graduation cap and swished the sleeves of her slightly too-big gown, whispering the words as quietly as she could. Usually the mantra was repeated for different circumstances: watching an emotional film in the cinema, seeing a three-legged puppy in the park, finding an old photo which brings up unforgettable but painful memories. But this was different. It wasn’t a documentary at the end of her Netflix list about captive whales, and it wasn’t a photo of a smiling brunette showcasing a baby to the camera. It was her graduation, and she was summa cum laude, and if she cried it would prove everyone who told her she couldn’t and wouldn’t make it correct.

Hollis wasn’t too far down the register, so Laura knew she should be focusing on the speech she would soon be delivering to hundreds of people. But reminiscing about her past seemed much more fitting for the day of high emotions (although it really wouldn’t help with the whole no-crying thing).

The last time she was this nervous to go on stage, she was in kindergarten. The school held an annual play where each student would dress up as what they wanted to be when they were older, walk across the stage, and proudly announce it into an outdated microphone. Her mother helped her make hers; a rather Sherlock-esque outfit, equipped with a magnifying glass and all. Four-year-old legs wobbled to the centre of the stage, and a voice sweet enough to give cavities spoke her well-practised phrase: ‘My name is Laura Eileen Hollis and I am going to be a reporter in Silas City!’

Everyone knew exactly where she was talking about. Silas City was famous to millenials, infamous to the older generations who still wished for the ‘good old days’ back. It was the first mass area to introduce legislation that allowed all creatures to coexist without restriction: restaurants could hire centaurs and fae, vixens could run for mayor, and even humans - the runt of the population who somehow managed to survive amidst species which could eradicate them with a click of their fingers - could find a home there.

However, no one really expected them to. Sure, Silas was introducing innovative technology which made the assimilation easier each day, but no one pretended it was a perfect haven. It may have been centuries since the world was a savage jungle, with every species looking out only for themselves, but prejudices still ruled the world. To be an apex predator announcing a desire to move to Silas made you seem hungry and on the hunt for fresh blood.

Being a human wanting to do that made you stupid and reckless.

The audience couldn’t seem to control their condescending laughter, even to spare the heart of a little girl with a big dream. Her classmates joined in after the show, and little Laura couldn’t comprehend why the tallest kid in their year (who insisted he descended from Bigfoot) was applauded for his same dream of being a reporter, whilst she was rushed off stage by the teacher wearing a stern frown and sad eyes.

Her mother hid the costume at the back of the attic that night.

The day after the play, Laura had been at the playground with her father. When he turned away to take a call, she took the opportunity to slip away, finding a group of classmates playing behind the trees with some older boys.

“Oh, look who it is! The little human who wants to be a reporter in the city of monsters! How long are we betting she’ll last, boys?” The voice was mocking but juvenile enough for little Laura to have the courage to scoff at the words; it wasn’t the first time she’d heard someone voicing their opinions on what certain people could and couldn’t do a little too loudly for her liking, and even at her young age she was getting pretty tired of people putting her in a box.

Before she could throw a well-crafted retort at him, the boy’s younger sister pushed past him, grabbing Laura’s hand, her pigtails swinging in an act of undying defiance. “Leave her alone, Theo! I think it’s cool that Laura wants to go to Silas. At least she isn’t  _ mean _ like you!”

Clearly that wasn’t the right thing to say, even if Mona’s well-meaning words continued to make Laura’s heart swell each time she thought back to them. Theo threw his younger sister to the side and grabbed Laura by the collar of her shirt, lifting her so her toes brushed the floor with the ease of indifference. “I’m not scared of a  _ human _ kindergartner,” he snarled, and pulled the tiny preschooler towards his open mouth.

Laura still remembered the feeling of two ivory incisions in her throat, of blood trickling down her clavicle, of her scream stopping in her throat, unable to come out. Shock and fear and pain paralysed her body, and she was sure she would die in that moment - after all, all she knew about vampires was that they were the villains of every book and show and film, and once they bit a human, they never wanted to stop.

Fortunately, Mona was one of the good vampires. Her screams were piercing, alerting every parent in the main area of the park, and Theo sped off with his friends before anyone could catch him in the act. Hearing confused voices and an oncoming confused crowd, Mona crouched down next to Laura where Theo had tossed her on the floor. “I still think you’re cool,” she whispered, her face forlorn, before tiptoeing away back to the shadows, just before Laura’s dad ran to the scene.

Once he understood what had happened, her father (her tired, doting father, who was convinced his daughter was attracted - no,  _ addicted _ \- to danger at the ripe age of four) began to research towns with a higher human population. The Hollis family moved the next month, and Laura didn’t meet a vampire again until her first day of college.

Back in the present, she felt a slight tug on the neck of her gown. Quickly realising everyone was staring at her, and that her name was being repeated in the microphone, Laura quickly bounced up the stairs to the stage, skidding to a stop in front of the Dean. “Sorry!” she winced, shaking his hand enthusiastically, powering through the minor embarrassment.

“Thank you for joining us, Miss Hollis! Laura here will be starting an internship at world-renowned newspaper  _ The Silas Voice _ this summer in the wonderful city of Silas! We’re all very proud of her, including everyone involved in the creature inclusion programme, who are beyond excited at its apparent fruitful results.”

Laura smiled at that and took her seat at the back of the stage. The next few moments went somewhat in a blur; she delivered her speech as if she hasn’t practiced it for two hours the night before to the point where it had lost all meaning, and she smiled for countless pictures with her dad, and she she said heartfelt goodbyes to people she truly would miss - goodbyes which were identical to the ones she gave to the people she was happy to leave behind.

Two weeks later, with a large polka-dot suitcase in hand and an overflowing backpack slung around her, Laura hugged her dad without whispering her often-spoken mantra: she let herself cry, and even took the bag of ‘essentials’ he packed her (despite her protests that bear spray really wouldn’t do much against vampires, not that she needed protection against vampires, because  _ really, Dad, the act of one vampire almost twenty years ago does not define the acts of the species! _ )

The train began to depart the station, and although Laura’s heart broke at the idea of leaving the town she found herself in (leaving the town she lost her mother in), she didn’t regret her decision to follow the dreams of a bold four-year-old girl either.

Because she made it. She was a human, and maybe she was naive and too headstrong and overly ambitious. But Silas wouldn’t mind about any of that; Silas was where she was going to make the world a better place.

 

* * *

 

Laura hated the world. 

When she first got to Silas, she loved everything. The graffiti on the walls, the vendors on the street, the fact that the supermarkets and clothes shops were stocked for  _ everyone _ . She loved that when she got to her apartment (one of the cheapest and grottiest in the city) there were creaky floorboards and woodlice crawling across the walls and suspicious stains on the table and only two plug sockets and neighbours determined to blow her eardrums with their music taste. She loved that everything was peeling and off and nothing like home at all. She especially loved the fact that she could live off of corn fructose syrup and fizzy drinks guilt-free.

But then she had her first day at work.

It wasn’t like she expected to be given her own office and immediately asked to write a front-page story with her name solely on the byline. Whilst Laura loved to dance in the realm of faint possibilities, she knew well enough not to base reality off of it.  _ The Silas Voice _ was possibly the most respected newspaper in the country, and even getting to write a small puff piece within her first month there - even working in the same building as its founder, Lola Perry - would be an honour.

Honestly, she hadn’t set the bar high at all. It was not reached. Hell, it wasn’t even scraped. The bar was looked at, inspected, and put a few notches higher.

Not knowing this, Laura bounced up to the front desk, beaming as she stood on her tiptoes at the person behind it - they looked like an alchemist of some sort, and their badge read the name LaFontaine in twirling green calligraphy. “Hi! I was wondering if you could tell me where --”

“Let me interrupt you right there -- I’m no receptionist. I dropped something...slightly dangerous around here somewhere and was hoping to find it,” LaFontaine murmured as they ducked below the desk, only the tips of their gravity-defying ginger hair showing above the table’s surface. When they finally emerged, glowing orb in hand, their eyes widened and their attention was finally placed on Laura. “Hey! You’re the new intern right? Heard you’re a human - pretty ballsy move moving to Silas. I’m guessing you want to see Perry, I’ll take you to her office since this--,” their own words were interrupted to wiggle the orb uncomfortably close to Laura’s face, “technically belongs to her anyway. Come on, follow me. What’s your name again?”

Despite the rapid fire of Laf’s questions and comments, Laura’s smile didn’t decrease; in fact, the two seemed to be running on the same wavelength, both chatting as if they were childhood friends rather than colleagues who met a few minutes ago.

“So, this is her. No need to be scared or anything; Perr might be the boss, but she’s also a softie. She’ll probably offer you brownies before you even sit down.”

Lafontaine wasn’t wrong - Lola Perry was a warm and comforting mixture of bouncing curls, homemade treats, and incredibly inspiring work ethic. Her office was spotless (making Laura somewhat ashamed of the state of the room she had been occupying for merely two days), her brownies were absolutely  _ divine _ (she had always been told that witches made the best cooks), and her smile just as enchanting as Laf’s had been. After a few minutes of chatting about Laura’s journey and how she’s finding the move to a metropolitan city, Perry nodded her head towards a large binder sitting next to her computer monitor. Laura turned her attention towards it, eyes scanning the visible pages showcasing a picture of a young brunette.

“So, Laura. I’m sure you’ve heard about the fourteen girls who have gone missing these last few months. The police gave up a few weeks ago; they had no leads, and the only connection was that all of them were predators of some kinds, from a siren to a poltergeist. You know how it goes,” she fell silent, her eyes losing their connection to Laura’s as she looked down at her binder, eyes sad and regretful.

Just as fast as the storm clouded over her, it snapped away, and Perry sat up straight once more. “ _ The Silas Voice _ has a history of breaking open cold cases - providing new leads, occasionally even solving some ourselves. We’ve dedicated as much as our staff to this as possible. Everyone is working extremely hard, hence the unusual silence around here.”

Laura was practically buzzing in her seat; her expectations were being completely beaten. She couldn’t believe that Perry was about to let her help on an open case, just as mysterious and life-dependent as she always hoped for.

“Which is why your main task around here will be supporting them. I’m sorry -- I know it’s probably not what you dreamed of when you moved here, and I know you have very impressive academic credentials. But we can’t put an intern on this, no matter how short staffed. Our photographer, Danny, is going to give you a quick tour of the office, and then I’m sure the team would absolutely  _ love _ a round of coffee. The machine’s in the supply room on the ground floor. **”**

_ Don’t stop smiling Hollis. Don’t look disappointed. No one else would be disappointed. You should be grateful just to be here. Hang on for a few more minutes. You need to make a good impression for Perry. You can do it. _

Laura’s mantra was loud and clear, but it was so much harder to act just as enthusiastic as before. “Uh, yeah, sure, that sounds great. I won’t let you down, boss!” she grinned (not reaching her eyes, but credible enough for a practical stranger) and stood up from her chair, giving a little salute which she immediately regretted, before setting off to find the photographer.

 

* * *

 

The supply room was dark, and cold, and likely hadn’t been visited since the last intern had left. The coffee machine, it turned out, needed an eternity and a half just to get the water boiling, and Laura had to precariously balance herself on top of a chair and two boxes of old newspapers in order to reach the cupboard where the rest of the styrofoam cups were being held.

Danny was just as nice as Laf and Perry had been. Her mood had been somewhat dampened since her tasks were described to her, but Danny helped elevate it slightly with an incredibly detailed tour and words of encouragement when she immediately analysed Laura’s face: “Perry give you coffee duty, huh? Don’t sweat it; we all did the same thing when we first started here. You’d think she could use magic or something to just,  _ make it happen,  _ right?”

But then Danny had to leave - something about finishing editing the pictures for tomorrow’s and the next day’s articles before her full moon-related absence - and Laura was left alone with her disappointment and doubts.

Sprawled out on the same chair she climbed on earlier as the second cup of coffee began to fill, Laura just about heard the buzz of her phone over the loud rumbling of the archaic machine on the corner table. Grabbing it, she straightened up quickly before accepting the Facetime request, quickly plastering a strained smile back on her face.

"Hey dad! How have you been? I miss you."

They exchanged pleasantries for a while, and Laura let herself tune out slightly as her dad detailed what every one of her classmates had been up to in the two and a half days since she left her hometown. It was only when she got up to put on the next cup of coffee that she heard her dad release a little breath - a common sound in her house which usually meant ‘ _ oh, thank god she isn’t in danger _ ’.

“You’re on coffee duty! Oh Laura, honey, that’s so great. I’ve been so scared that you’d be off fighting vampires or tackling ghouls or stalking centaurs - don’t give me that look, Laura, I know Mr and Mr Greenwood from down the road are lovely, but centaurs can give a mean kick. Look, I love you, and you know I’m proud that you’re pursuing this journalism thing, but if you had just told me months ago how  _ safe  _ it would be, I wouldn’t have lost so much hair!”

He continued like that for a while, not noticing his daughter’s face fall. Laura loved her dad, and she really  _ did  _ miss him, but his encouragement to enjoy her suffocatingly  _ safe _ situation wasn’t entirely helpful. She pretended to hear a knock at the door and gave her dad a quick goodbye, tucking her phone back in her jean pocket with a sigh as she went to get the next cup to fill with black coffee.

As she walked over to the windowsill where she badly balanced the reusable cups (a towering mess bound to end in calamity), she caught sight of a wisp of brown hair and porcelain skin in the corner of her eye, and abandoned her task in lieu of looking at the girl outside of the room’s sole window.

Though slacking off on her first day wasn’t exactly very typical of her behaviour, Laura couldn’t bring herself to berate it when the girl was just so  _ attractive _ . She seemed to be roughly Laura’s age, though the two hardly shared many qualities - the stranger’s dark curls and pale complexion were an opposite to Laura’s mousy hair and tanned skin, and her hands were stuffed in the pockets of a sleeveless denim jacket, worn atop of a faded band tee-shirt and  _ holy Hermione, leather trousers _ .

Just as Laura was about to abandon her creepy post, another girl materialised in a cloud of black smoke right in front of the other: significantly older and extremely well dressed, the newcomer in the alley was wearing a sequined orange gown, her straight black hair and dark skin accenting the colour in a way that completely epitomised and embodied the word  _ couture. _ The two women smiled at each other - a smile which signalled recognisance and history and a complex but irrevocable dynamic - and  _ woah, Hollis, no need to analyse innocent strangers in an alleyway _ .

She looked over her shoulder at the coffee machine - her  _ nemesis _ \- and back at the two strangers outside, just catching the moment the older one passed the other a handful of plastic bags of -

Wait. Those were donation bags.  _ Blood _ donation bags. Bags of warm, red,  _ probably human _ blood.

They were vampires.

 

* * *

 

With each step she took, Laura begged herself to just stop and reevaluate her decision making. She was three days into her move to a more-accepting, diverse city, and already she was making as many stereotypes as her father. Hell, at this rate she would be carrying the bear spray around with her just incase she came across any vampiric gangs -- which, first of all, really didn’t seem like the most suitable weapon against the undead.

And speaking of vampires - Laura had, at least, eventually managed to stop herself from spying on the two (beautiful) strangers from the basement window. Unfortunately, she had replaced that with exiting the building and making her way to the alleyway the window faced, positioning herself behind some large dumpster bins so that she wouldn’t be spotted.

It wasn’t that she thought there was criminal activity going on: to assume so just because they were vampires would simply be wrong. But seeing them hand each other bags of blood in an alleyway -- that just couldn’t be a normal, legal activity. Blood, for starters, had to be purchased from a bank by legitimate means, and certainly  _ not _ shadily traded in a dark corner of an empty street.

(Okay, maybe the corner wasn’t dark at all, because it was daytime, and the street was actually rather full of people considering it was the middle of a workday, but the situation stood out nonetheless.)

_ Okay, focus Hollis. This will definitely be the most interesting thing that’s going to happen today, unless someone chokes on their coffee and you have to perform the Heimlich or something _ .

“--I swear next time I’ll be more on top of things, Mattie, but -- well, you know what its like to have mother cut you off.”

“No thanks needed, Kitty. Any chance to get away from Vordenberg is a chance I’ll--”

Laura was forced out of her thoughts about how perfectly fitting the smooth voice was for the gorgeous brunette when her whole body was consumed by goosebumps. The second woman (Mattie, apparently) was looking right in her direction. Laura crouched lower, if possible, refusing to breath and hoping the supernatural abilities of the two didn’t include hearing her loud, pounding pulse.

Mattie turned back towards the other as she asked what was wrong, shaking off the question with a dismissive hand gesture. “I’ve got to get going, Kitty. Don’t wait so long to ask for help next time.”

Just as she had appeared, the vampire left once more in a cloud of black smoke, leaving behind remnants of dust and a small  _ pop _ sound. Laura sighed in relief, grateful at having dodged that close call, and also  _ really _ happy that she finally got to watch the super cool apparating gift which she’d definitely been jealous of since she finished the Harry Potter series.

She pushed herself up off the floor, wiping the dirt from her jeans and reaching into her back pocket for her phone to check the time, when she felt a cool hand encircle her wrist. Spinning around, hair whipping her neck and free hand ready to deliver a sharp hit to the assailant’s throat, Laura saw who it was.

Making direct eye contact with the girl she had been creeping on for the last ten minutes should have made her heighten her guard (she was a shady vampire, after all, despite how overwhelmingly attractive she was), but instead it made her do the opposite. Both arms relaxed, and whilst her eyes remained sharply attuned to the other’s (Kitty’s?) face, the rest of her body dismissed any signs of danger.

“Cutie, if you’re going to stalk girls in alleyways, you really need to learn to be more subtle about it,” the woman drawled, hazel eyes flicking up and down to assess the small girl in front of her. “Wouldn’t want to run into any trouble now, would we?”

Despite the numerous smart and quick-witted responses ready to fire off her tongue, Laura (for once) was reduced to a speechless state; she managed to remove her wrist from the girl’s grasp, and after a few minutes of regaining her thoughts - time the vampire took merely to smirk at the effect she had on her spy - Laura managed to remember how to form words. “Well, maybe if you weren’t being so suspiciously _sneaky_ right outside my window, I wouldn’t have to come and investigate, would I,” she spoke strongly, chin held high and back straightening in a futile effort to eradicate the one or two inches which the girl had above her.

All she got in return for her efforts was a quick and well-practiced eye roll, before the girl in leather turned around and began to walk away. Seemingly feeling the way Laura’s eyes followed every step, she turned around and smirked once more, speaking the words “ _ hope I don’t see you around, sweetheart _ ” before turning around the corner of the wall.

Laura cursed under her breath, finally diverting her attention back to her phone. Seeing the company email-alert from LaFontaine asking where their ‘much needed life elixir’ was, she made her way back into the building, and back to the coffee machine.

If her eyes continued to drift to the window in hopes of seeing the girl again over the next few minutes, there would be no witness to prove it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cries because I hate writing dialogue and this has so much in it*
> 
> if you did enjoy this - thank you for sharing my mind because i get that this is kind of a niche idea !! and feel free to check out my other fics (and by that, i mean i currently have one hollstein fic up, which has one chapter, because instead of working on that i wrote this)
> 
> hopefully it won't take me too long to update this, but i'm not going to make any promises just in case ;)
> 
> thanks again, and find me on tumblr @nyssaalgayul :)


	2. nature ain't a froot machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who kudos-ed, commented or bookmarked after the last chapter !! i'd apologise for how long it took me to upload this second one, but considering my track record i'm actually kind of proud that it didn't take longer.
> 
> [chapter title from marina and the diamond's 'froot']

The next time Laura saw the mysterious vampire, it was in a photograph.

She’d been asked to help Danny go through some of the pictures she’d managed to gather from her police sources for the missing girls case: the evidence for each one taken was worryingly scarce, so the task wasn’t too tedious, and Laura was eager to help out with just about anything which was about real investigative journalism (rather than about real coffee making, or paper filing, or stapling).

Really, everything was rather repetitive: a screenshot of the last known (and captured) appearance of the individual, doing something wholly mundane, like eating some take-out or hugging a loved one or making their way to work or sitting on a park bench. Then there were recreations of their last movements -- creatures of the same type were asked to wear the victims last outfit and allow a police officer to film them as they retraced the kidnapped girl’s day before they went missing (Danny explained to Laura that this was standard police procedure, and she’d been given access to it by her police contact Kirsch in the hopes that broadcasting the images would help jog some memories). Finally, Danny herself had collected a wide array of photographs detailing the most likely site where the kidnapping occurred, in hopes that some pattern would be found.

Spoiler alert: they all had yet to be successful in that matter.

About half an hour into the job, Laura realised that they only had thirteen piles so far. Putting down the graduation photo of the seventh victim - SJ, a siren who had gone missing after an Under the Sea themed party, ironically enough - she began digging through the files and boxes in Danny’s office, wondering where the information gathered on the fourteenth girl would be.

“You alright there Laura?” Danny too had abandoned her post in favour of perching against the table as she incredulously watched the new intern rummage through her office (which, Laura realised slightly too late, was an incredibly rude and intrusive thing for her to do on the third day of knowing this girl. Oops). “You lose something, or..”

Laura immediately straightened up, extracting her hands from the file on Danny’s desk as if someone had caught her sneaking cookies out of the jar. “Sorry, sorry. Guess I got a little carried away,” she smiled sheepishly, grateful that Danny laughed it off instead of being more perturbed. “It’s just, we’ve only got photos of thirteen of the girls here. Who's the last one? Why don’t we have anything on her?”

(She wouldn’t admit it, but so far the thrill she had at questioning Danny on the absent information was the most exciting thing that had happened to her since arriving in Silas.)

“Oh, right. Yeah, by the time Elizabeth Spielsdorf went missing, the police had already kind of given up on this case. And honestly, she was such an anomaly in the whole thing that most of the reporters have agreed that involving her stuff with the others is just putting them all off.” Danny must have caught the confused and curious look on Laura’s face, which made her smile - it was always nice to see fresh enthusiasm in the office, especially when handling slightly darker issues. “So, each girl was a predator of some sort, right? In the sense of technicalities -- sirens used to drown men, werewolves would hunt in packs, et cetera et cetera.”

Laura had moved to sit down at one of the chairs surrounding the desk, eyes wide as she took in each word of Danny’s, subconsciously committing each detail to memory: she’d read up on the case as much as she could, but she hadn’t been privy to so many details before this.

“Anyway, Betty technically fits this profile, since she’s a witch, except not really. Her family have all been Pow-Wow witches as far back as is recorded - that’s a German denomination which mostly focuses on healing spells and the such. Which just makes the popular theory that these girls were taken as some sort of hate crime against predators just..well, not work.”

All of that was news to Laura -- until then she’d been under the impression that each creature was an example of some kind of apex predator, rather than the list including less intimidating ones. “That’s...weird,” she finally spoke up, shock (and admittedly, excitement) gradually dissipating from her face as she involved herself in the conversation once more. “That’s like taking a jaguar and an otter. There’s no connection.”

Danny was nodding in agreement, though her attention had somewhat returned to sorting through the photos. “You’re telling me. That’s why she isn’t really mentioned as much, though if you want to look through her stuff you’re more than welcome to.” Laura didn’t spare a moment to take her up on that offer, albeit feeling slightly guilty that she had already retired herself from the task Perry had given her not even an hour before. Walking in the direction the red-head was pointing, Laura sat crossed-legged in front of the filing box, fingers swiftly skimming through school records, witness testimonies by family members and CCTV shots of the curly-haired blonde walking through the streets of Silas.

And that’s when she saw her.

Laura stopped flipping through the pages immediately, drawing out the photograph of the girl - Elizabeth (better known as Betty, if the reports were anything to go by) - outside of the main building of Silas University. It looked mundane, really; Betty had her arms around an older man, the two posing for the picture as people walked in all directions around them. If it hadn’t been for Laura’s alley-encounter a few days prior, she wouldn’t have had anything to add to it at all.

But in the corner of the photograph lurked a familiar brunette, porcelain skin and taunting smirk and smouldering eyes (and  _ woah _ , where did  _ that _ description come from?) and all. But what stood out most of all was the way she was staring right at Betty, with a cool and clearly intentional (and possibly smouldering) gaze.

Laura smiled at the familiar feeling of something -- a thought, a hope, an intuition -- igniting inside of her as she folded the photograph up and put it inside her blazer’s pocket, before standing up again and grabbing her notepad and pen from the table.

“Hey, Danny, were any of the missing girls vampires?” she asked nonchalantly (she  _ hoped _ it was asked nonchalantly), not even facing the photographer as she walked towards the front of the room.

After hearing an affirmative ‘no’, Danny didn’t even have time to ask Laura why exactly she wanted to know, since the intern had left already without so much as a goodbye (again, something which Laura would definitely feel guilty about later).

For now, she was throwing all manners and the ability to follow orders to the wind: she had a lead.

 

* * *

 

Because Laura didn’t actually want to get fired from her freshly-started internship and have to go back home and live with her dad’s gleeful eyes that she would have to become a farmer or something (although he’d probably think that that was a dangerous lifestyle too), she didn’t immediately exit the building to go and find the girl. Even though that was exactly what she wanted to do.

Instead she made her way over to Perry’s office, making sure to knock before entering (because Perry was a  _ lovely _ person, but she was still the boss). Said woman told her to enter in a chipper voice that did wonders in boosting Laura’s optimism towards the conversation ahead of her, and she wasted no time in sitting down opposite the CEO (only noticing that LaFontaine was sitting on top of Perry’s desk, eating away at some brownies, when she was already seated herself).

“Oh, Laura, hi. I hope everything’s alright?” Perry started, yanking the plate away from Laf in order to offer another baked treat to the newcomer. “Aww, come on Perr, what’s the point of being best friends with the boss if you don’t give me special treatment,” the alchemist responded grumpily, though glinting eyes betrayed their true friendliness. “Frosh, don’t betray me like this.”

Laura laughed, politely shaking her head at the offer, much to Laf’s delight. “Thanks, and I’m good -- I’m great actually, and I know we kind of talked about why this wouldn’t be happening two days ago, but I was wondering if I could maybe ask you something anyway?”

She took a long inhale, realising her words were probably going a mile a minute, if Laf’s cocked eyebrow and Perry’s widened eyes were anything to go by. Yet, she hadn’t technically been stopped yet, so she took their silence as an invitation to continue. “I have a potential lead on one of the missing girls, Betty Spielsdorf. It’s...not certain, but I would like to follow it up anyway. And it’s kind of complicated too, so whilst I know that you didn’t want an intern on this, I’ve watched all of Veronica Mars and I graduated top of my class and I  _ really _ think I can do this so--”

Okay, well that wasn’t the well rehearsed speech Laura had intended on confidently giving to Perry in a professional and collected manner. Rather, it seemed rushed and desperate and everything that Laura  _ was _ but was trying so hard to not be. After a few moments of trying to dial back the stream of words that wanted to just continue flowing, Laura dared to look up at the two in front of her.

LaFontaine’s expression hadn’t really changed, bar a small quip in their lips which exposed their amusement at Laura’s little outburst. Perry, however, finally seemed to embody what everyone assumed the CEO of an award-winning and well-known newspaper would look like: her lips were pulled taut in a disapproving line, her eyes had lost the softness of the woman who had earlier offered Laura a homemade treat, and her hands had come together to place themselves on top of the desk in a move which practically  _ oozed _ disappointment and rejection.

Well, frack. So much for her earlier optimism.

“I’m not even going to ask how you managed to get a lead on the one missing person whom a whole team of journalists managed to find nothing on, because you  _ know _ why I can’t let you follow up on this yourself.” Laura sighed - she’d moved out of home, but it seemed her dad’s protective speeches would follow her endlessly. “Look, Laura, we all know how dedicated and smart and capable you are. But you’re an intern. You’re our first human recruit.”

_ Whoop, there it is _ . Perry had basically just patted the back of the until-then unaddressed elephant in the room; and it wasn’t like Laura hadn’t known she was being slightly coddled because of her human condition. She just didn’t think it would get in the way of such a serious matter.

Whilst before she would have happily and directly challenged the assumption that she was less able to do something because of her lack of claws or fangs or healing abilities or special skill-set (hell, she’d gotten into verbal fights for less), she took in yet another deep breath before beginning to speak again -- this time, just as controlled as she had hoped to initially be.

“I understand that, Ms Perry, I really do. But Danny told me no one else is even looking into Betty right now. And you said it yourself -- everyone’s stretched thin on this. You could use an extra pair of hands, and I promise you, I am more than up to it.”

Having mostly been silent until then, Laura almost jumped in surprise when Laf let their legs dangle off of the desk all of a sudden, turning to Perry to whisper something to her (she’d be affronted, usually, at being so obviously spoken about, but from what it seemed LaFontaine was agreeing with her, so Laura could definitely let it slide).

She decided to lean back slightly in her chair, one hand preoccupied with her nervous tick of scraping the nail varnish off of her thumb, whilst the other seemingly subconsciously ghosted around the pocket she knew the photograph of Betty (and the girl, whose name she really needed to figure out else she called her ‘hot vampire’ in her head for the rest of this investigation) was in.

Really, it can’t have been more than a few minutes before someone spoke up again, but for Laura, sitting still whilst her job and barely-built reputation hung precariously in the balance, it hyperbolically and yet legitimately felt like an eternity.

“Okay.”

The answer was so simple she could have fallen off of her chair right then for the pure monosyllabism of it all. Even if granted with a positive answer, she was expecting a list of conditions or warnings or limitations - a dismissal comment about how the lead probably wouldn’t pan out  _ at least _ . But Perry was clearly done talking, her hands returned to her lap and her eyes lost some of their steeliness. LaFontaine too had positioned themselves to be facing Laura once more, now grinning (clearly having won the mostly silent argument the two childhood friends just had).

Laura herself was torn. She didn’t know if she should run out of the room before either one could change their mind and fire her for being so bold, or if she should stay and thank Perry until her jaw began to ache.

Eventually she decided on both: standing up abruptly she allowed her true happiness to be visibly seen in the form of a blinding smile on her face, rolling onto the balls of her feet in excitement as she began to speak. “Thank you. I won’t let you down and I’ll keep it all by the books. I just..thank you,” she smiled at them as she began to make her way towards the door, only stopping when she heard Perry’s commanding yet soft voice once more.

"But you’ll drop this in 48 hours if you don’t find anything Laura. And...be careful. I’ve quite gotten used to everything being normal around here."

Choosing to take Perry’s precaution as the beginning of a friendship rather than a patronising insult, Laura bounded out of the room, thoughts racing through her head as she wondered only one thing: where would the hot vampire be at half-past ten on a Wednesday morning?

 

* * *

 

Technically, it wouldn’t classify as stalking. Laura reassured herself of this several times as she sat on a bench opposite the alley she met the vampire in a couple of days prior, jotting down things in her notebook, but mostly paying attention to the street in front of her.

It wasn’t technically stalking because stalking was ‘pursuing or approaching someone stealthily’ (as Siri helpfully informed her); but Laura was waiting patiently rather than actively accosting anyone, and she certainly wasn’t being stealthy about it (everything about her practically  _ screamed _ Veronica Mars wanna-be at this point, which even the offender herself could admit).

After forty-five minutes had passed, not including her hot chocolate break at the small cafe across the block which she’d already grown to accept as a second home, Laura was ready to call it a day and start working on a more tangible method of tracing down the nameless face: and that’s exactly when she got to see the girl again, this time in the flesh.

(Dead, lifeless flesh. Whatever, the phrase still rung true).

The brunette - who, holy Hermione, was looking just as gorgeous as she did the last time, even when vaguely threatening - was leaning against the wall, arms (covered in a leather jacket) crossed and head tilted towards the afternoon sky in a position which oozed confidence and unapproachability.

So, of course, Laura decided to approach her.

At first she decided that in all likelihood, the woman wouldn’t necessarily recognise their little meet-ugly from the other day. After all, the vampire didn’t really act like it was the first time she had to tell someone to stop spying on her, and she probably had a lot more pressing matters to focus on than her encounter with Laura, if her shady blood swap was anything to go by. Hence, as Laura left her spot on the bench to cross the road, when the other’s eyes landed on her own and she straightened up in a clear sign of recognition, Laura was shocked to say the least.

She came to a stop in front of the girl she’d been trying to find for almost two hours, unable not to smile at the little victory she stored away at the back of her mind. “Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, and I’m not sure if you remember, but we actually met the other day,” she decided to start with, putting out her hand for the other to shake. “I’m Laura.”

The woman (rather obviously) looked Laura up and down, decisively not shaking her hand or exchanging pleasantries as a gradual smirk took over her previous expression, and their eyes locked together once more. “I wouldn’t really consider me catching you hiding behind a dumpster as ‘meeting’, cutie,” she drawled (and she  _ seriously _ drawled, her voice doing something to Laura’s legs which definitely was  _ not  _ helpful or welcome right now). “Can I help you with something, or do you just like making my day more interesting?”

It was already becoming quite clear that her witness wasn’t going to be very willing to aid the case - but Laura didn’t hesitate, having already put her career and future on the line for this. Like hell was she going to let a stubborn and snarky face deter her from doing her job. “Ha, well, funny you ask actually!” she smiled (hoping some of her enthusiasm would rub off on the other), grabbing the photograph she took from Danny’s files out of her blazer pocket. “Do you happen to know this girl? Her name’s Betty Spielsdorf, she went missing around three weeks ago.”

As if a shadow was casting over her face, the vampire’s (whose name Laura _really_ needed to get down soon) entire demeanour shifted: her smirk was replaced by a dismissive and uninterested frown and her eyes broke the contact they were keeping with Laura’s. “Sorry, haven’t seen her around. Doesn’t really look like we run in the same crowd,” she muttered, hands clenched in her jacket’s pockets as she attempted to walk down the street the same way she came.

But Laura wasn’t going to let her go that easy, especially when she knew the brunette could help her. “That’s interesting,” she started again despite the woman clearly not wanting to continue their conversation, quickening her strides in order to keep up with her as she walked away, “because in the corner of the photo you’re actually staring right at her. And I checked CCTV footage of the area, and you were seen in her vicinity quite a few times. So, you _do_ run in the same crowd.”

They had now entered a (different) alleyway - an obvious attempt to spook Laura off, which was definitely not going to happen - and in a sudden movement the vampire had spun on her heel to stare down Laura, their faces now slightly too close for comfort. “Look here Lois Lane, I told you there was nothing I could do to help you, so why don’t you run on back to your little job and continue filing papers of whatever it is they get humans to do there.”

Laura tried to hide the fact that the harsh tone caused her to take a few precautionary steps back, but she ensured her head stayed tall, moving one hand into her right pocket as calmly a she could. “You’re lying, and you  _ have  _ to help me,” she replied, eyes showing the determination of a thousand fires that her small stance wasn’t doing too good at conveying. Before the vampire even finished rolling her eyes at that, she continued with the speech she had prepared in case Plan A (be nice and polite!) fell through - as it clearly had. “And before you threaten me with violence or something, you have to help me because if you don’t, I’m more than happy to report your illegal blood deal from the other day to the appropriate authorities.”

Oh, if only her dad could see her blackmailing vampires in an isolated alleyway in the middle of Silas. He’d probably lock her up in a castle with two dragons and a moat. And then have an aneurysm.

If the other’s expression was cold before, it had turned downright predatory at Laura’s little (and slightly immoral) ultimatum. The vampire took a step forward, eradicating the space Laura had instinctively created earlier, and her eyes had somehow turned a few shades darker, if that was even possible. “Do you really think you’re doing anything to help that girl? To help poor Betty? If you tell anyone about me buying blood on the black market - not that you have any proof - you probably won’t live to see the end of your little internship.” Laura thought she’d finished, but instead she growled under her breath, digging her heels into the ground as she continued. “You’re a child, and you understand nothing - not about life, not about this place, and certainly not about what it takes to survive in a city that...you know what? The sooner you stop looking into this, the better off you’ll be.”

Silence consumed the alleyway, with only the sounds of birds on the rooftops and the slight gust of wind being able to penetrate it. Laura had expected a bit of a fight, and definitely didn’t expect for her and ‘Kitty’ to become best friends straight away, but she really did not anticipate such a vindictive and defensive response. She took a few moments to wallow in the words, logging in each one to ensure she didn’t respond too hastily and scare her witness away for good.

“No.” The vampire (and possibly her new enemy), who had began to turn in order to continue walking down the alley, practically flinched at the word, eyes narrowing as she tried to process what she heard. “ _What?_ ” \- clearly someone wasn’t used to people not cowering away at their threats before.

“No. I’m not just going to give up. Maybe you’re right; maybe the world doesn’t work exactly as I thought it would. Silas isn’t a place of equal opportunities, and it certainly isn’t perfect. Girls go missing and nobody seems to care! So maybe that  _ is _ just the way it is. But that doesn’t mean I have to accept it. No. I deserve better.  _ Betty _ deserves better.”

Laura had worked herself up enough to be staring the other directly in the eyes, no longer put off by their darkness and her ability to maim. “Hell, even  _ you _ deserve better.”

The vampire, no longer looking as murderous as she had before, stumbled back a step, as surprised at Laura’s outburst as Laura was at it’s eloquence. “I’m still not going to help you,” she spoke after recomposing herself, and as much as her words rung true, there was a softness behind them that wasn’t there moments earlier.

And that was just the opening Laura was looking for. Grinning, she removed her hand from her pocket, bringing out her pen (her pen shaped like Doctor Who’s sonic screwdriver, which she’d been using and refilling since her eighth birthday) and pressing the button on the top of it, holding down until she thought it had gone back enough.

_ “-- that girl? To help poor Betty? If you tell anyone about me buying blood on the black market - not that you have any proof - you probably won’t live to see the end of your little internship.” _

The two girls, still alone in the corner of the corner of the street, both listened as the brunette’s voice sounded throughout the air, though their expressions were strikingly different: Laura was practically beaming, excitement at the fact that her recording pen had finally come in handy evident, whilst the vampire looked like she was torn between destroying the pen or destroying the entire neighbourhood. Cocking her head to the side, now seeming more confident in her blazer, owl jumper and maroon trousers than the black-and-leather clad one looked, she threw a smirk towards her direction, just as had happened to her after she was caught behind the rubbish bins.

“Well, there’s your proof. It’s called a hustle, _cutie_. So, you gonna help me with this or not? Oh!- and I never actually got your name.”

Much to Laura’s relief, it seemed her witness decided on not physically breaking any object or person in the area, and whilst she also didn’t look very happy at the situation she had found herself in, she didn’t move away when Laura walked to her side either. With a sigh, she finally responded, giving in to the easiest option she was presented with.

“I’m Carmilla. And I guess I’m your new partner, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please forgive the leeways i have taken with how running a newspaper and being an investigative journalist actually works -- i've got to make the plot move somehow !!
> 
> thank you so much for reading :) let me know what you think, and i hope you enjoyed !!
> 
> [[find me on tumblr @nyssaalgayul]]


	3. you have been warned (i'm born to be contrary)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the Carmilla movie trailer is out today, I decided I'd better update this thing before everyone forgets about it -- speaking of, I really am sorry about the atrocity that is my updating schedule. I'd like to say I'd try and be better, but school is starting up again, so I won't make empty promises.
> 
> [Chapter title is from the song God Help the Girl - it kind of fits season 1 Laura, I think, so feel free to listen whilst reading.]

When Laura was younger, she used to put blu-tack over the webcam on her father’s desktop computer. He once told her that anyone could be watching through it - later she would dispute it as paranoia and superstition, but her younger self took everything her doting father said at face value.

And yes, now she doesn’t believe that thousands of secret governmental organisations are using their valuable resources to watch an unknown almost-journalist leisurely peruse the internet. But she still uses the blu-tack, because she isn’t entirely certain that her dad isn’t behind the webcam, ready to chastise her for her current, ‘extremely dangerous and definitely forbidden’ activities.

Hence, the muffled snigger from Carmilla (Laura was beyond glad that she finally got a name, and beyond glad that the name, as archaic and non-ubiquitous as it was, fitted the vampire so well) as she completed her usual cover-up-the-webcam ritual after opening up her laptop. She glanced at the brunette out of the corner of her eye, ready to defend her methods, but when met with a soft pair of  amused eyes rather than the steely look she was expecting, all fire inside of her quickly died out.

“ _ Oookay _ , so, I think this whole process would be a lot easier if it was less awkward. So, let's just forget the whole me-blackmailing-you thing and find Betty, okay?”

Carmilla had been leaning against Laura’s closed door of her apartment, but at the words she straightened herself up, walking towards Laura where she sat at her desk (which also served as the dinner table). Laura almost forgot what the task at hand was as her thoughts focused themselves solely on Carmilla’s saunter. Could vampires hear heartbeats or not? She desperately hoped this one couldn’t.

“Cutie, we’ve known each other for about five minutes and in that time we’ve both threatened each other, and you’ve invited me into your bedroom. I think we’re past awkwardly toeing boundaries, don’t you?” Laura couldn’t dispute that the other had a point there. Except maybe the bedroom part - it wasn’t really her fault that her whole apartment was technically a bedroom, after all.

She sighed, suspicions that this partnership was definitely going to make her regret her vocation confirmed as Carmilla winked at her again, turning on her heel to perch herself on Laura’s bed. “ _Relax_. I told you I’d help you on this, didn’t I?” she directed at her, leaning against the wall with her feet (boots on and all - seriously, where were her manners?) now placed upon her mattress.

Laura turned her attention back to her laptop screen, pulling up the photo of Betty (featuring Carmilla) and reopening her other tabs with the information on the missing girls she’d managed to compile the night before. Suppressing another sigh, she spun around in the chair, careful to position herself so that Carmilla could still see the computer screen. “I just need a lead. And a bit of help because I’m kind of stripped of resources here. Then you and I can go back to being strangers, and I’ll give you the pen.” _And we’ll never see each other again_.

Carmilla grinned, and whilst she tried her best not to, all Laura could wonder was why she didn’t have fangs like all the other vampires plastered on the 6 o’clock news did. She then hoped that her new house guest hadn’t spotted the transparent bag of bear spray underneath the desk. That one would be hard to explain.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll have much use for a nerdy Doctor Who pen. Lets just delete the recording. Or burn the whole thing.”

Just as she spoke the latter words, the contents of Laura’s bin spontaneously set on fire, and Carmilla didn’t muffle her laughter this time as Laura close to fell on the ground in surprise. Her smirk was just as attractive as it was taunting, and she was finding it hard to decide if she wanted to punch or kiss it off of her.

It was going to be a long week.

 

* * *

 

After the initial awkwardness and slight bickering - because she may have only known Carmilla for just over an hour, but that didn’t mean Laura wasn’t going to chastise her apathy or snide comments - it turned out her new partner was actually pretty helpful. Although never finding out what her job was (Laura was still working on prying a lot of information out of the girl; she was hard to draw an outline of, and it was equal parts enticing and infuriating), Carmilla it seemed was not only tech-savvy, easily gaining access to all of Betty’s social media accounts and archives, but also highly proficient in languages - which Laura really thought she’d find out  _ after _ she found out Carmilla’s surname, but apparently not.

“So, you’re saying that Betty was private messaging some anonymous Twitter account in _Sumerian_? As in the dead language? The really, extremely, decaying dead language? Why would anyone even _know_ that?”

Carmilla chuckled lightly under her breath, shuffling them both closer to the computer screen (Laura didn’t exactly have a need for another chair, so they were both perched on the sole one, thighs touching but with Laura doing everything in her power to make sure nothing else was). As if taking glee out of the fact that she was about to blow the tiny human’s mind (which probably wasn’t far from the truth), Carmilla picked up Laura’s sonic screwdriver pen and traced it under each Sumerian character as she --

\-- holy freaking Hermione, she was translating it.

_“‘I think I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think it’s worth it.’_ That one was from Betty. Then, uh -- okay, this one doesn’t have a direct translation but it’s along the lines of ‘ _Your sacrifice will be worth it. I can give you what you’ve asked for._ ’ So, just a normal conversation for an honours student to have, then,” Carmilla commented sarcastically, nose scrunching up in concentration in a way Laura definitely shouldn’t be finding endearing. “It kind of goes on like that for a while - your Betty being persuaded by this person to make some sort of sacrifice in exchange for... _something._ ”

Laura would reply were she not overly invested in writing down Carmilla’s rough translations and her own annotations.  _ Finally _ , she was getting some kind of lead, even if it led to the same cul-de-sac as the rest. It was still  _ something _ . It was more than the newspaper and police had already. It was proof that she could do this.

“Okay, so we need to track down the IP address of this guy, right? I’m guessing there aren’t exactly any reputable and legal places we could go to for that though, huh..” she trailed off, excitement gradually being replaced with processing all of her many, jumbled thoughts.

(She wouldn’t realise that she forgot to thank Carmilla until much later, by which time she’d already owe her too many debts to backtrack to this one.)

Jumping off of the desk chair, forgetting to give Carmilla warning and almost causing her to fall off (payback for earlier, Laura justified it with - though the vampire was annoyingly much more graceful at regaining her posture than she had been), Laura began to pace across her room as much as the confined space would allow. It was what her dad had always called her going ‘full-Laura’ -- meaning nothing could get in her way until she solved whatever problem was taunting her. At first the term offended her, but when she finally found evidence that the headteacher was embezzling school funds, she decided not to fix a method which wasn’t broken.

Carmilla, of course, had never witnessed ‘full-Laura’ mode before. She wasn’t concerned, per se, though her eyebrows did quirk up as they had done several times before during their encounter - it seemed she was perpetually amused by the human she’d been saddled with, which Laura would find more irritating if the look didn’t always come equipped with a small but genuine smile across the other’s pale face. It almost made all the teasing worth it.

Objectively she knew that she was speaking out loud - fragmented comments of  _ ‘why would I agree to drop this after 48 hours’ _ and  _ ‘I can’t afford to be fired’ _ and ‘ _ Damn Betty you couldn’t make this easy could you’ _ . Laura saw no reason to stop, however; it didn’t seem like Carmilla continued listening after the first one.

Which was another of her mistaken presumptions about this newfound partnership: because Carmilla  _ was  _ listening, and though at first did so just to use for later mocking material, after hearing for the first time that Laura only had 48 hours to crack this case, her entire expression changed. Unbeknownst to Laura, it went from happily perplexed, though wholly uncommitted to the events occurring around her, to pure malicious excitement at something she was planning. Had Laura seen it, she probably would have become slightly wary of the other.

“ _ Well _ , cupcake, if you want to stop burning a hole in your floor, I actually know a place where we could get the account traced. But I don’t know if a human could handle it…”

Carmilla was posing it as a challenge. As if she knew for a fact that Laura would rise to the bait. As if she had her pegged already.

Laura paused her pacing for a second, offering a quick glance towards the photo of Betty on her desktop, and then back at Carmilla, who had composed an entirely  _ too _ innocent-looking expression on her porcelain features. Really, she knew she was being played, and that she shouldn’t take Carmilla’s word (a word she had basically no reason to trust, if prior events were anything to go by), simply because she had insinuated that her specific DNA wasn’t up for it.

She inhaled, matching her posture to Carmilla’s naturally confident one. She knew that she shouldn’t, but she had no other ideas, and she wasn’t about to let the vampire confine her to stereotypes.

“Let’s do it.”

 

* * *

 

It was exactly the type of place her father would expect a vampire to drag her to.

When they arrived, Laura was pleasantly surprised, though wouldn’t admit it to her new partner in fear of offending her. The office block was situated in the middle of a busy city highstreet, with CCTV cameras perched on corner lamp posts, a security guard mulling outside of the front door, and the only aspect of it which seemed out of place were the numerous posters for the mayor’s reelection campaign haphazardly scattered on the pavement in front of it. Carmilla flashed an ID badge which must have been in her back pocket the whole time (Laura didn’t really know how  _ anything _ could fit in that, considering how tight and form-fitting the trousers were -- not that she had noticed), to which the doorman gave a curt nod, letting them through.

Overall, it wasn’t exactly the sneaky underground lair she’d come to expect from all folkloric vampire stories and the illegal blood cartel raids she’d seen on late night television. It was official and public and clean and overwhelmingly  _ normal _ .

Until it wasn’t.

Carmilla maintained a vague sort of smile as they navigated themselves through the company complex, either avoiding Laura’s plentiful questions with snide comments (‘ _ I have to keep some of my secrets. Otherwise I’ll lose my air of mystery, won’t I _ ’) or flat out pretending she hadn’t heard them instead.

When they approached an elevator which needed a security code just to open, and then a scan of an identity pass to move, Laura’s questions at least tripled - because how was it that this girl simultaneously seemed to be a professional employee for  _ whatever _ kind of company this was, but also needed to get her blood on the black market instead of just paying for it with a hefty paycheck which presumably would come with  _ whatever  _ kind of job this was?

Laura decided not to voice these questions, mostly in fear of losing a limb. There was something about Carmilla’s posture which warned her from delving too deep into her past and her present (though that warning could only hold a wannabe investigative journalist off for so long).

She was soon brought back to current events when the automated voice inside the elevator informed its occupants that they were going down...and then they kept on going down...and then Laura was basically the embodiment of confusion because  _ how are we still going down, we were already on the ground floor, this building can’t have  _ seven _ basements, right _ ?

Apparently she’d voiced those frantic thoughts out loud, if Carmilla’s hand suddenly placing itself on her shoulder was any indication. “You want to calm down, cutie? If I bring a hyperventilating human in there I’ll never hear the end of it. Also, they might want to eat you.”

She said the last statement so flippantly, so casually, that Laura honestly didn’t know if she was joking or not. Working off of the worst-case-scenario assumption that she  _ wasn’t _ , she straightened herself up, pushing her hair out of her face and turning to face Carmilla with a look so cold it almost made up for her so clearly being out of place here. “You’re taking me to some secret underground lair, aren’t you?” she asked, proud of her voice not wavering, and entirely annoyed that she was technically right about Carmilla’s plans all along,

Deciding it was too beneath her to give Laura an answer (which,  _ rude _ ), Carmilla instead placed both hands back in her jacket’s pockets whilst the other tried her absolute best not to pout at the missing weight and warmth on her shoulder.

“You should stop assuming the worst in me,” she finally retorted as the elevator came to a stop, a small  _ ‘ding _ ’ sounding before the metal doors began to move apart. “But also, yes.”

What presented itself in front of Laura as they departed the elevator somehow met all the expectations she’d based off of horror stories and bastardised rumours, whilst also being something even she couldn’t have concocted in her overactive imagination. Each step the pair took echoed around the walls, flat stones paving the way beneath their feet. A distant  _ drip, drip, drip _ followed them, though Laura had no chance in locating its origin due to the dim nature of the room: she could count about three lamps positioned in the high corners surrounding them, though each one had a flickering and wavering bulb. The sole reason Laura could really see anything at all - or at least the outline of Carmilla, the furniture, and the dozen other people in the large hall - was the fact that each person walking or sitting either had a computer or tablet screen illuminating their features.

Carmilla wasn’t fazed in the slightest, obviously knowing exactly what they were walking in to. She offered small smiles to certain people in the room, though also seemed to be of a high enough status to make others cower away from her stare, and didn’t stumble around sudden unseen corners of tables or slight dips in the flooring as present company did.

Laura, who was currently exerting almost all of her effort into trying to appear as non-human as possible, only just about managed to stockpile details of their surroundings in her mind for later use without having to stand still altogether. She was craving more, craving answers, practically begging for Carmilla to quench the need with just a drop or two of information: the business’ ventures, her job title, why the building needed a covert IT room in the seventh basement when there was more than enough staff in the company  _ above _ ground.

She wasn’t offered any droplets, however, and had to settle for scurrying to keep up with Carmilla and keep her breathing as controlled as possible.

Which, because she was never able to hide her inherent clumsiness no matter when the situation called for exactly that, led to Laura colliding with the leather-clad back of her partner as she came to a standstill without warning. The victim of her careless walking rolled her eyes, which Laura almost missed as she moved herself to stand adjacent rather than behind Carmilla, and the woman they’d stopped in front of sighed, exuding indifference before either of them had even spoken.

It was then that Laura realised she knew this woman - it was the same vampire she’d watched give blood to Carmilla in the alley those few days ago; she was unforgettable, from her attire which screamed ‘too expensive for your eyes to even linger on’ to her smile, perfectly composed to lure one into a false sense of security before curling up into a sneer, Laura was certain.

(Certain, because that sneer was appearing right now, pointed in her direction no less.)

“Now, Kitty. Do tell why you’ve brought a walking dinner date in here. You know mother doesn’t like it when we play with our food.”

Laura wasn’t sure what she was expecting exactly, but it certainly wasn’t for the woman to then place down her tablet so she could embrace Carmilla, pulling away only to pinch the paler vampire’s nose and affectionately call her a ‘ _ little monster _ ’. All things considered, Laura was almost disappointed that  _ that _ was the weirdest thing she’d seen happen in the dark alcove.

“Relax, Mattie. This is Laura, a reporter at  _ The Silas Voice _ . She’s investigating all those missing girl cases,” Carmilla provided by way of introductions, speaking in a tone which Laura wouldn’t describe as condescending, but certainly had a meaning behind it which was only clearly communicated to Mattie.

On hearing the purpose of their visit, Mattie’s demeanour somehow became more menacing, frowning as she made direct eye contact with Carmilla. She was clearly displeased with Laura looking into the abductions, which she was sure to make a mental note of. “That’s.. _ interesting _ .” She spoke languidly, as if every second wasted on this matter was beneath her pay grade. Considering her outfit, it probably was. “And you’re bringing her to me why, exactly? If it’s not to turn her into a red mist.”

All things considered, it was a small miracle that Laura had been able to keep her mouth quiet for so long. She didn’t question the people around her drinking red liquid out of plastic Starbucks takeaway cups, or the fact that no one was put off even in the slightest by the lack of lighting in the room. Hell, she’d even stood by Carmilla’s side as Mattie addressed her like she was nothing more than a walking flesh-bag of blood (which, to her, was all she was). But like hell was she going to meekly stand there for much longer.

“Carmilla said you’ve got the resources to track down a lead we have,” she started, ignoring the feeling of both vampires visibly tensing up at how candidly she was speaking, and likely at how anyone within the vicinity would be able to hear. No point in stopping now, though. “The IP address is 29.TH.D03. And we’re kind of in a hurry, so the quicker the better,” she smiled, slowly relaxing more into the strange environment she’d found herself in, though having to feign the majority of her confidence still.

Mattie had finally shifted her gaze over to Laura - and if Carmilla had been treated to the same imploring look she was on the receiving end of now for the last few minutes, then she definitely felt sorry for her - and looked her up and down; no longer assessing her worth as food, it seemed, which was something. “Well, aren’t you just enough to give a girl cavities,” she laughed (which was a confusingly enticing sound, despite the fact that it was used at Laura’s expense), and dropped the murderous air she’d been sporting since they first met. “Kitty, you and I need to have a little talk about appropriate reasons to use the board’s facilities. But go ahead. I’m excited to see how mother will react to this one,” she grinned, placing a hand soothingly on Carmilla’s dark locks in the visual antithesis to her near-sinister words, before moving out of their path, presumably to return to the land-of-the-living in the upper-levels of the building.

“She seemed...nice,” Laura offered, only half-committed to the blatantly obvious lie - she’d much rather ask the questions which were pressing on her mind hard enough to make her dizzy, old confusions being replaced with the chilling need to know exactly what the board was. All the while she kept reminding herself to not forget how Mattie had reacted to them coming to her about the missing girls case. Laura had a hunch that her small flinch hadn’t been nothing, despite how smoothly the woman had played it off. And if her track record was anything to go by, Laura’s hunches weren’t something to just ignore.

Carmilla deigned Laura with a small chuckle for her efforts to be polite about her choice of friends and coworkers, continuing to lead them towards the back of the hall where a row of offline-computers sitting in separate cubicles stood. “You did well, creampuff. You’ve already lasted longer than the last human who came down here,” she grinned, flashing her teeth in a way which made Laura certain she was just joking (but not certain enough).

The brunette sat down opposite the closest computer, with Laura taking her cue to stand behind her, hands on the back of Carmilla’s chair for balance. “Yeah, yeah. What is this place, anyway?” she spoke casually as if it wasn’t a question burning a hole in her mind, with her eyes focused sharply on the vampire’s fingers in an attempt to memorise the login code she was using for the desktop. Laura almost stumbled backwards (though managed to maintain her composure this time) when Carmilla whipped her head around, curls swaying around her head as Laura snapped her head back up to meet her eyes, hoping her snooping wasn’t too obvious. “The owner has lots of business endeavours. Some are public. Some not so much.”

Though Laura was practically happy-dancing within her head at the fact that Carmilla had just indulged her with some answers despite them not being pertinent to the case, she managed to remain calm on the outside, lest she prevented herself from ever being gifted with the truth again. “So what do you do here?” she decided to test her luck; if Carmilla was in a generous mood, she for sure was going take as much advantage of it as she could.

Her luck, however, seemed to have run dry much too soon. Laura’s words hung in the air but weren’t granted any sort of reply, and Carmilla’s back was facing her once more as she turned her own attentions away from the human nuisance behind her and back to the computer. “The company has its own software to trace down ghost accounts, but it isn’t instant,” Carmilla piped up again, typing in the IP address she seemed to have memorised, and pressing the enter key with probably more force than was necessary.

Laura frowned, pressing her front against the back of Carmilla’s chair, and leaning forward so that her hands instead were placed on the armrests on either side of the vampire. Their cheeks were close enough for Laura to feel a slight tickle when the brunette’s eyelashes fluttered shut (and if she thought she heard Carmilla’s breath hitch, she decided she must have been imagining it).

“So, what now?”

Carmilla turned her head, clearly miscalculating their proximity when their noses brushed. Before she jerked away, Laura allowed her eyes to meet the deep hazel ones in front of her. She hadn’t noticed the grey flecks swimming in the dark before - they looked like miniscule constellations, begging to be explored further.

This time Laura knew she wasn’t imagining Carmilla’s small inhalation, considering they were practically sharing the same air at this point. The sound, as missable as it was, broke her out of her trance, and the journalist took a step backwards, no longer invading the other’s space (as comfortable as she was, feeling her forearm brush against Carmilla’s shoulder, and the soft feeling of Carmilla’s hair).

One of them cleared their throats - it was a testament to how distracted she was, the fact that Laura really didn’t know which one of them it was - and Carmilla moved the chair diagonally so that with a slight turn of her body the pair were facing each other once more.

“Now, cupcake, we wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed !! As you can probably tell, this isn't staying true to all aspects of Zootopia (i.e. Carmilla and Nick having very different pastimes, and some other things I can't name since they're technically spoilers for chapters to come), but I hope it's enjoyable nonetheless !! My favourite thing about writing this fic is that it gives me an excuse to go back and watch episodes of Carmilla to get quotes and stuff without feeling guilty like usual.
> 
> Please write a comment if you liked this -- or hell, even if you didn't. Seeing that people are actually reading this instead of clicking on it and immediately leaving really motivates me to write (and with my terrible updating, I need that kind of motivation, seriously).
> 
> Hopefully by the time you're reading this the Carmilla trailer will be out -- ahhhhh!!!!!
> 
> [[follow me on tumblr @nyssaalgayul]]


	4. i have no underlying issues to address

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [chapter title from the season 2 intro song to 'crazy ex-girlfriend. the next line to it is 'i'm certifiably cute and adorably obsessed' which out of context is literally laura circa-season 1]

Really, she should have figured it out by now, but it wasn’t until Carmilla was practically draped across the computer’s chair, one hand perched on the edge of the table and the other clasped around a blood-stained mug, that Laura realised - Carmilla was  _ really  _ dramatic.

When she cryptically told Laura that they had nothing to do but to wait for the search analysis to finish, she’d got her smartphone out of her back pocket, thinking she’d kill the few minutes by avoiding her dad’s texts (in a loving way, of course) and scrolling through her news feed. Clearly, she was mistaken, because what Carmilla had planned was  _ poofing _ out of there in an unnecessarily and overtly sudden way - because  _ since when _ was that something she could do, and why did they ever need to get an Uber over here if she had that up her sleeve the whole time? - and deciding to apparate back into the scene, blood-beverage in hand, just as Laura was about to take her place on the desk chair. Which, because she’d clearly pissed off some sort of demi-god or omnipotent fish demon, resulted in Laura perching herself on the newly-appeared Carmilla’s lap; and since the other had managed to make suggestive and flirtatious comments when the two were miles apart, it really wasn’t something that was necessary, asides from increasing the awkward tension which had settled between them.

(But if she let herself melt into the comfort of another person for just a moment - allowed herself to forget the loneliness which had been invading her veins from the moment her mother left and the moment she realised that as great as it was to have such a big heart, no one else’s would ever be able to match hers, leaving her in perpetual disappointment and solitude - and consumed as much as Carmilla’s musky scent and hot breath as she could, at least the vampire didn’t mention it.)

The universe decided to stop taunting her, however, the computer  _ ding _ -ing in a clear alert that the search was done before Laura had to fumble her way through some feeble mixture of an apology and lame joke (and before she could analyse the smirk on Carmilla’s face juxtaposing the blush underneath her dark eyes). “Ooh! It’s done already -- let’s see…” She leant forward, Carmilla slouched back in the chair and not bothering to investigate since the small journalist was already on the case. “29.DT.03’s signal originates from...no, that can’t be right. Can it?”

Though she was mostly talking to herself, it seemed her babbling had finally spiked her partner’s attention, since the brunette raised herself to stand adjacent to Laura, their pinky fingers brushing from where they lay in front of the keyboard. “My my, cupcake. Looks like you’ve stumbled onto a conspiracy theory.” Her tone was disinterested, as if the results on the screen meant nothing to her (which, damning recorded evidence aside, they didn’t), though a slight glint in her eye betrayed her: whether it was intrigue or tension, Laura couldn’t entirely decipher.

They two shared a brief glance before simultaneously returning to stare at the location given to them on the screen - an address which at first looked seemingly innocent, but when plugged into Google Maps provided results which, honestly, Laura wasn’t entirely sure what to do with.

She rose onto the ball of her feets (effectively closing the slight gap between herself and Carmilla; not that she noticed those few inches), a grin, almost as predatory as the ones which graced the faces of the vampires around her when a human walked into their lair, gradually appearing on her face.

“Carm, that’s the _mayor’s_ office. I can’t believe I did it,” she exclaimed (though conscious not to be too loud in the room full of hard-working carnivores), spinning to face the brunette at her side. Carmilla quirked an eyebrow, presumably at the human’s excitement or chosen nickname, though the gesture did make Laura rethink her phrasing slightly.

Apprehensive at first, but soon gaining confidence from her adrenaline-filled rush that often comes with a brief moment of success, Laura reached a hand forward, wrapping it around Carmilla’s elbow. She gave it a slight squeeze, her smile becoming softer as it lost its initial enthusiasm (though remained as animated as ever). Hazel eyes met lighter ones, and neither had the courage to move away from the intensity of the gaze.

Carmilla remained silent, seemingly unfazed by their inching together, or at least not voicing any complaints. Laura took that as a good sign, tilting her head to the side slightly as she corrected her previous celebration.

“I can’t believe  _ we _ did it.”

 

* * *

 

As much as Laura really wanted to storm into town hall, demand to see the ever-elusive Mayor of Silas, and wave a picture of Betty in her face as she victoriously accused her of abduction and corruption, she knew realistically the only result that would yield would be her thrown out of the building, or possibly into a holding cell. Besides, she was a journalist now - and whilst she had the same eagerness to uncover secrets to the world (making it better in the process) as she had as a kid, she and her dad had paid for her to learn the correct methods of doing so. Like hell was she going to not use them.

Carmilla, however, was less willing to go through the motions with her.

“Look, cutie, when I said I’d help you, I didn’t think you’d actually get this far,” she drawled, the pair now standing in the lobby of the building visible to the world, inspecting her nails as if she was deliberately trying to look unimpressed. “And now you want me - a _vampire_ , need I remind you - to walk into a police station and beg for their help? When you have that recording on hand?” She finally looked up at Laura, any previous likeableness she found in the human clearly gone. Laura had wondered how long Carmilla would put up with her presence, but she really didn’t think the disaffection would happen so quickly (and she tried her best not to seem hurt; clearly the two becoming akin to friends was all in her head). “Have you ever wondered _why_ there aren’t anypolice officers with fangs?”

That made answering a lot harder, because honestly, she never had thought about it. All policemen in her hometown had been supernatural - that’s all Laura, as traditional prey and weakest specie of all, had ever really thought about. But now she’d been prompted into retrospective, Carmilla was right: there had been witches and shapeshifters and trolls and elves, but no vampires.

She was beginning to understand Carmilla’s complete shutdown of emotion when she’d unilaterally announced her plan for them to both present their findings to Detective Kirsch, Danny’s friend in the SPD. After all, the only vampires seen entering police stations were the ones wearing silver handcuffs.

Guilt was an emotion Laura had always found hard to grapple and react to, but if ever there was a time to practice self-improvement, the present was it. She moved so she was sitting down on one of the lobby’s armchairs next to Carmilla’s own and dropped the stubborn and authoritative expression she’d been wearing when detailing her plan just moments before.

“Okay.” It was simple, but effective. The brunette was started out of her stoic ways, head snapping up and putting Laura right in her line of sight, her (perfectly carved) eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. “If you don’t want to come in with me, you don’t have to. But I need you to stick with me on this. It’s just-” she broke herself off to look at her watch, something she’d been avoiding doing due to the feeling of dread the knowledge was always accompanied with. “Just 40 more hours. And that’s including snack breaks.”

Be it at the mention of the ever-quickening time constraints or the mention of snacks (considering this was Carmilla and not some lovable puppy they were talking about, it was most likely the former), the vampire seemed to perk up somewhat, if no longer giving everyone in the vicinity murderous glances could be considered as such. She appeared to be giving Laura a scrutinising search, her eyes trailing from her face to her shoes, before snapping back into position. A grin replaced her poker face when her razor sharp vision noticed the goosebumps appearing on Laura’s arms at the not-at-all subtle inspection, knowing they travelled all the way down from her shoulders.

Laura would feel more scandalised, were Carmilla not finally being cooperative again.

“I’ll wait in the side alley. Though I’m not sure I trust you to not get into trouble if left on your own for even a minute,” the vampire offered, abruptly standing up and raising her eyebrows until Laura realised she was meant to follow suit. “Something tells me you’re a magnet for that kind of thing.”

(She wasn’t told that she was completely correct in her assumptions, but Carmilla would soon witness for herself just how true her first impressions were.)

As they were walking out of the door, a man with hair as dark as Carmilla’s walked past them, his shoulder (clad in a suit likely more expensive than Laura’s rent, and life) colliding with hers before he spun on his heel. “Careful, Kitty. We wouldn’t want past punishments to make a reappearance, would we?” he snarled, words directed at the fellow vampire in the room, but lifeless eyes fixed on Laura the whole time, as if sizing her up.

Before she could ask either one what the exchange was about, the man had walked away, and Carmilla was so focused on the space in front of her as they left the building that it was as if the whole thing never happened.

 

* * *

 

Laura really wished Carmilla had decided to come inside with her. It wasn’t that she couldn’t do this whole  _ conspiracy-mystery-kidnapping _ thing by herself; after all, if she and Carmilla did this right, she would hopefully have more cases to come in the future (ones which, somewhat regretfully, wouldn’t involve her newfound friend, found only through vague stalking and blackmail). It wasn’t even that she was intimidated by the supernaturals walking around her, equipped with both internal and external weapons. No - none of that fazed her even the slightest.

Laura wanted Carmilla in there because when two caring, Hufflepuff-esque forces meet one another, not much really gets done. And she had finally found her foil in Detective Kirsch.

Not entirely sure what she was expecting from someone she knew only to be the lupine friend of Danny, this bubbly manchild in front of her wasn’t it. He was tall - towering, practically - and although his uniform was in perfect condition, ironed to a crisp which only Lola Perry’s own clothing could beat, the (stereotypical, yet true) doughnut crumbs down it drew more of a picture of his personality than anything. His police badge was lopsided, and Laura had to physically draw her hands into the pockets of her coat to stop herself from straightening it out.

_ Remember the mission Hollis. Don’t get drawn in. _

She had the repeat the phrase at least ten times (one of those being out loud, much to poor Kirsch’s confusement) before she was able to force herself to derail from their animated conversation about how nice Danny - or ‘D-Bear’, in the detective’s words - is and  _ oh my gosh you watch Orphan Black too?! _ , and actually trail back to the purpose of her visit.

Realising that his new ‘little buddy’ was actually there for business rather than pleasure, Kirsch led Laura into a vacated interrogation room; the setting was so reminiscent of too many scenes in her favourite shows that the reporter had to remind herself that most people didn’t get excited about confinement such as this. Especially when she was currently the only one without claws or a taser in the room.

“So, D-Bear texted and said you had some files for me to look at, right? Man, I’m surprised she still trusts me with this stuff. I spilt beer over her last portfolio and she was  _ not  _ happy - but when a guy’s given a funnel, you gotta’ chug, right bro?”

It took Laura a few seconds to come out of her shocked silence. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been around frat boys before - she’d definitely had her fair share at university - but finding one so nice and kind and  _ sweet _ as Kirsch in a police precinct of all things was not exactly on the agenda. Which, again, was why she needed Carmilla; Carmilla, who would never let doey eyes on a six foot five giant derail her from getting the job done as quickly as possible with as little effort as she could get away with.

“Um, yeah, sure!” she quickly recomposed herself, scrambling to place all the information they’d collected so far (a messily compiled file of pictures, GPS maps, social media conversations and Sumerian translations) out of her satchel and onto the metal table in front of her, suddenly painfully aware as to how _little_ they had, and to how meaningless it looked to an outside eye. “It’s -- well, it isn’t much, and maybe I jumped the gun on coming to you so soon. But I’ve only got two days and it isn’t like I could go and just _ask the mayor_ if they’re a part of this and lose all my...complete lack of credibility. I just - needed an outside perspective…” she trailed off, not used to being allowed to ramble for so long without some kind of interruption.

Kirsch, to her surprise, had already immersed himself in her papers, lining them up across the table surface to resemble some sort of chronological timeline as the detective in him slowly grappled dominance from the dude-bro. Laura felt a tinge of shame settle in her stomach; the guy was probably used to people underestimating his police skills, and she was no stranger to being underestimated. After he had finished his meticulous process he looked up, eyes so wide that Laura was able to decipher each emotion shown in them: most evident was the remorse (which, not a great sign at all).

The dejected puppy sighed, hands clasping together in front of him. “Look, little hottie--” he paused when he saw Laura reprimandingly tilt her head at that, quietly chastising himself before continuing. “ _Little nerd_ , you know any friend of D-Bear’s is a buddy of mine, and this case is like, _totally_ serious and all. But the mayor - she’s the _mayor_! Her inclusion programme is the only reason I’m a detective and not a mall cop. I can’t give you anything.”

Before he had even finished Laura had downcasted her face, eyes burning little holes into the papers in front of her, if only she had cyclop-genetics. Anger was already prickling under her skin.  _ So what _ if Kirsch owed the mayor a favour? Didn’t he promise to protect and serve the people when he was given that badge? Wasn’t Laura people? Wasn’t  _ Betty _ ?

“Hey, little nerd -- _I can’t give you anything.”_ Well, that was unnecessary. Laura knew she’d lost a lead yet again with less than two days to spare. She knew she was going to have to leave the precinct with her chin high and pretend to Carmilla that her predictions of failure all around weren’t right. She knew that Perry was going to demote her to janitor duties or out right fire her, and she knew that Betty’s family would never be given answers or hope or peace.

What she didn’t know was why Kirsch was reaching out a gangly limb to tap her incessantly on the shoulder until she snapped her head up with a sharp retort just about to leave her mouth, before a single key was slid across the smooth metal, stopped only by her fingertips. “You understand, right? _I can’t give you anything_ ,” the detective repeated once more, the full meaning of his words (and wink) fully articulated now that Laura was meeting his gaze -- and him animatedly pointing at the key now in her possession certainly, though not subtly, helped.

He stood up just as he started to gather the papers together, putting them back in the plastic wallet Laura had brought them in. Words of gratitude were falling off of her tongue quicker than even she could keep up with, and Kirsch responded to them by handing her the file and - in a quick, unexpected, yet pleasant surprise - the warmest bear hug she’d received since she left her dad behind at the train station. “ _ The key’s for the evidence locker _ ,” he whispered into her ear, and Laura only just about suppressed a giggle at the tickling sensation, all the while hugging him back as much as she could.

“I can see what Danny likes about you,” she commented over her shoulder just as she was leaving the interrogation room, and though she was sure it was meant for the private eye only, Laura had never seen a face light up as brightly as Kirsch’s did in that moment.

 

* * *

 

It really shouldn’t have been as easy as it was to slip into the evidence room unseen amidst a group of highly trained police officials. Laura was suddenly grateful for how overlooked humans were - especially those of the small, female kind.

(It also shouldn’t have been as adrenaline-inducing as it was. She was beginning to worry that this might become habit-forming, and a life of crime wasn’t exactly what Laura had imagined for herself when she dreamt of moving to Silas all those years ago.)

The extreme organisation of the room made Laura miss the library back in her hometown, and her personal mission entitled ‘English Literature A-Z’. The Dewey Decimal system was a true blessing, and with the few rare exceptions when she couldn’t quite finish a novel cover to cover, Laura had made it just over halfway through each fictional classic in the alphabetised columns before leaving. It was a true testament to her dedication and loneliness, if anything. Thankfully, the precinct ensured it’s evidence folders and case files were as neatly compiled as the librarian back home did with her precious paperbacks, and it wasn’t long before Laura had found all data collected on Betty in the far right corner, coincidentally obstructed from view by two lofty shelves of boxes in front of her.

She was in that same position, crouched on the floor with two cardboard boxes surrounding her as she felt elbows-deep around them, trying to find  _ anything _ other than the measly student records and CCTV footage Carmilla had already gotten up for her without police resources, when she heard footsteps. They were frequent, and soft - Laura had to cover her own mouth just to tell if they’d stopped or not. She didn’t dare move from her position, knowing even the slight jutting of her elbow would give her position away. If she just stayed still and silent and  _ didn’t breath  _ then--

The light her phone was providing was abruptly cut off as a looming shadow presided over her. Laura only had time to tilt her head back to ascertain who it was - ascertain the danger she was in - when the man struck forwards, his fist colliding with her cheekbone. She lost her already-precarious balance on the heels of her feet and fell backwards, her back colliding with the shelf behind her in such an angle that sharp needles of pain began to prick from the base of her spine up to her collarbones.

The attacker - whose only noticeable details were that he had black hair, was wearing a dark grey hoodie, and, judging by the throbbing pain on the left side of her face, had superhuman strength - bent forward (taking his time, clearly thinking he didn’t need to worry about the little human in his way anymore - as if she was a fly he had just flicked off of his shoulder) and grabbed Betty’s box. Laura knew she needed to act quickly. Her head was spinning, and her back was in agony, but she wasn’t about to let some shady guy run off with  _ her evidence _ , as useless to her as it was.

She kicked her leg out with as much strength as she could, successful in causing the box to topple over (letting the few papers disperse themselves across the priorly pristine floor), but not successful in hindering her opponent in anyway. She pulled herself up from the floor, fear-induced energy beginning to cause her to resign to the co-pilot seat of her brain as instincts took over, and she sized herself up, ready for a fight which inevitably wouldn’t go her way unless -- “ _ Hey!” _

In the middle of her non-verbal assessment, the man had ran off, jumping delicately over boxes in his way with gracefulness which did nothing but contradict the bruise rapidly forming on her cheek bone. “ _Motherfluffer_ ,” Laura hissed through her teeth, taking off after him in much less agile a way, almost colliding with a wall as the assailant made a sharp corner to go through the emergency exit door. She wasn’t too far behind him, managing to fall through the exit without having to push the bar open herself, but when she stumbled through the doorway, catching herself just before she colliding with the concrete paving of side alley she had found herself in, the hooded man was nowhere to be seen.

“What the  _ what _ .” Laura whipped herself around in multiple circles, head turning in every angle possible despite there only being two clear directions the attacker could have ran through. It didn’t make sense - none of this made sense. She would have seen him; she could have practically grabbed the belt loops of his trousers, she was that close behind him. And now he was gone. Just a wisp in the wind that would never materialise enough for her fingers to hold on to.

Until they could.

Just as she was resigning herself to accept defeat and find out where Carmilla had gotten to, two ice-cold hands wrapped themselves around her neck, one navigating upwards to cover up her mouth to prevent the usually-talkative girl from attracting any attention to her situation. The other tightened it’s grip on her throat, fingers crushing into her airpipe so tightly her toes were only able to flirt with the ground as the pure force of the attack lifted her in the air. Choked, airless gulps involuntarily escaped her lips, only slightly muffled by the barricade they found, and Laura’s fingernails helplessly imbedded themselves into both foreign palms on her skin, each little moon crescent shape she made a plea for help which no one would be able to read.

A white blur crept around everything she could see until the misty fog settled in each corner of her vision, growing gradually - a visible and unnecessary signal to the urgency of the situation. Legs kicked in futile attempts to break the imprisonment, or to find the smallest of weaknesses which would just allow for one breath of air to make its way into her lungs.

One breath of air. That’s all she needed. One breath of air.

The walls to each side of her, once a vibrant display or orange and copper, began to darken. Greys and blacks crept their way in, taking their place on the ground and the sky and her shoes and Carmilla, who was running towards them. Her lips, once painted a soft peach in Laura’s eyes, but now monotonous and dull, opened and closed at rapid speed. The human didn’t comprehend that this was a rescue coming towards her - a literal knight in black leather, yelling at a stranger to  _ drop her, let her go! _ as she closed the boundary between them. She didn’t comprehend anything other than the fact that even in her deoxygenated state, Carmilla’s eyes still shone bright at her, the constellations reflected in their dark, murky waters still a map Laura wanted to explore, and her entire being still a beauty too much for a human to cope with. She focused on those eyes, focused on the intensity they were expressing that anyone would be instantly drawn towards, and focused on how they didn’t move away from her even as Carmilla retracted a fist. The violence of her action was muted by the sudden and pressing fact that  _ Laura could breath _ .

She lay on the floor where the man had dropped her, gasping like a fish out of water, hands replacing the stranger’s at her throat as she attempted to soothe the burning she felt below the clawed-at skin. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Carmilla on top of him, blood dripping from either one or both of them, until she rolled off of the now incapacitated man.

“Laura? Hey, hey, look at me. You stupid girl, picking fights with a vampire.” Carmilla’s words were calming, despite the reproaching tone clearly intended, and all doubts about her clear concern were demolished by the way delicate fingers moved Laura’s hair out of her face, tucking the loose strands behind her ears. “I told you I couldn’t leave you alone for two minutes,” she smiled, clearly having decided that Laura was okay enough to joke with, though a frown still etched itself across the girl’s face as she brushed a thumb across her injured cheekbone.

Having finally regained her breath, and after checking that her vision was back to normal through a long series of blinks, Laura slowly sat up, still very much aware of the fact that she had nearly lost consciousness at the hands of _whoever that was_ in an alleyway. She silently apologised to her dad, whose spidey-sense about this kind of thing had to be going off the radar by now, and let her hands drop back to her sides. “I’m fine, Carm,” she grinned - because _she just got attacked by a vampire and survived_ \- but the croak in her voice and the purple handprint on her throat didn’t exactly encourage Carmilla to return the happy gesture. “I’m fine,” she repeated after clearing her throat, hoping the improved smoothness of her voice would calm at least some of the other’s worries (because it certainly did her own). “I totally had him on the ropes. I just needed some backup. Some heroic, superhuman, and very appreciated backup.”

Carmilla finally smiled at that, rocking back so she was sitting on the ground besides Laura instead of hovering over her as she was before. “Couldn’t have you die on me, cupcake. No one else who annoys me is as cute as you,” she smirked, and though Laura should really be worrying about her near-crushed windpipe and the motionless body next to Carmilla, all she could focus her overactive mind on was the fact that her partner, even if just in the midst of worry, had called her by her actual name for the first time.  _ And she thought she was cute _ .

All (completely inappropriately timed) thoughts of romantics and flirting were cut off when Carmilla looked towards said body as if just remembering his presence, and a growing spot of crimson could be seen on the grey of her shirt. “Carm! You’re hurt!” she exclaimed, her own injuries forgotten as she kneeled in front of the vampire’s hip bone, hands tenderly pressing around the bleeding area to try and determine what was happening. Laura didn’t even _know_ that vampires could bleed.

“Ouch! Hands to yourself, poptart. The bastard had a knife.”

Carmilla’s dismissive nature about her own blood being on the wrong side of her skin completely threw her off track. Laura was at a complete loss of what to do. She’d watched countless of marathons of Scrubs and Grey’s Anatomy and those crappy ER shows which only play when you’re sick from school or ditching class - but those were about humans, not  _ immortal creatures of the night _ . How do you stop someone from bleeding out when they’re not even alive?

One thing was for certain: they couldn’t stay were they were. And Carmilla had already forcibly voiced her opinion on policemen. Laura wasn’t about to drag her bleeding body into the precinct against her will - hell, she wouldn’t be able to even if she tried. A hospital would ask too many questions, which neither of them were up to answering. They didn’t even know who the unconscious guy was.

Her apartment, which (thank Hermione) was only a short walk away, seemed to be the only viable option.

“You can walk right?” she spoke hurriedly as she bounded to her feet, hand outstretched and body preparing itself to support Carmilla if need be. “I could try and carry you but he shoved me pretty hard into this shelf and - okay, so you’re already standing. Something tells me this isn’t your first stab wound.” Laura was speaking to herself mostly, so when the brunette chuckled softly at that, a mixture of surprise and affection coursed through her, dulling the throbbing pain throughout her body by only the slightest, but feeling like a miracle. “You okay with going back to my place?”

Carmilla replied in the affirmative, though her lack of joke about being invited back to Laura’s bedroom for a second time was concerning. Sparing one last look around, eyes avoiding the slumped face of the man who close to killed her, something caught Laura’s attention before she guided Carmilla back to her apartment. Sticking out of the front pocket of the man’s jeans was what seemed like a photograph, and although only the top right corner was visible, it was clear the centre of the picture was a person. She knelt down once more, wincing slightly as she got closer to the body (her heart beginning to race at the knowledge that he could wake up at any time and claim her throat once more), and her fingers snapped forward to snatch the photo. Stumbling backwards, Laura was back by Carmilla’s side, who was suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue, distracting her from asking what the other was doing.

She pocketed the photo without looking at it, knowing her bleeding friend was the much more important matter at hand, as uncomfortable as mysteries (and leaving unconscious people outside police stations) made her feel. Carmilla, though looking paler, if possible, was still standing firm on two solid feet, but that didn’t stop Laura from securing an arm around her leather-clad waist as the two made a slow procession in the direction of Laura’s building.

As they reached the end of the alleyway, she spared one look behind her for the man left on the floor.

No one was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late, I know, but I'm hoping that the extra length will somewhat make up for this!
> 
> Despite me actually trying to plan this chapter, it got a whole lot gayer than I was expecting. Not that that's ever a bad thing -- hell, it's never a bad thing when it comes to these two. I also finally got around to introducing some new characters, even if only one out of the three was named. 
> 
> Hopefully the action/drama portion of this chapter was coherent. I was trying to write in the mindset of Laura, who throughout the struggle was probably practising her inner monologue of 'what tf is going on', but if that was confusing, apologies all around. Maybe the chapter was still enjoyable anyway?
> 
> Let me know what you think; do you like the direction the plot's going? Any guesses as to what happened with the missing girls? Who's the mayor? And the biggest question of all: is Carmilla going to sleep in Laura's bed?! Tune in next time to see ;)
> 
> [[find me on tumblr @lauratothelettter]]


	5. even when you're next to me (it's not the way i'm picturing, no)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from 'Sleepover' by Hayley Kiyoko. 
> 
> This chapter features two well known speeches from the two source materials used for this fic. Congrats if you recognise both of them ;)

Considering the night they’d had, the scene the pair found themselves in just an hour afterwards seemed too calm to have been precursored by a storm.

Carmilla, freshly patched up and healing nicely thanks to her genetic advantages (although her paleness was more advanced than usual; Laura was trying not to worry about it, but couldn’t push it quite to the back of her mind either) was currently asleep on Laura’s bed, making undeniably adorable noises which could really only indicate dreams about murdering balls of yarn. Despite her injured state, it had taken many stubborn and final words on Laura’s behalf to get her there - although it was nice to know that in her centuries of living, chivalry hadn’t quite died.  Besides, it wasn’t like Laura was planning on getting much sleep. Or _any_ , for that matter.

That meaning that only the half of the room with Carmilla’s sleeping form was one of serenic and domestic bliss: the other half, namely that which Laura inhabited in her frenzied and caffeine-fuelled state, was more the den of a deranged serial killer planning its next move.

Having left her laptop running incase any new leads came through, Laura had migrated to standing in front of the empty space of her wall, finally getting around to decorating it - though not in a way an interior designer would approve of. Placed in the priorly vacant space were small photographs of 13 of the missing girls, Betty’s own picture, being the one which brought Carmilla onto the case, slightly larger and more centered than the others. Stemming off of the photo of the blonde were pieces of the leads they’d found so far; they were few and far between, but her wall wasn’t empty, and that was at least something.

(Admittedly, Laura was quite proud of her creation, though mourned the fact that she had to use masking tape to connect the papers and pictures instead of red string, as the true murder-mystery enthusiast inside of her felt vital.)

Everything on the wall resembled something physical in her mind - the Sumerian writing was translatable, the social media archives were accessible, the mayor’s office was tangible, and Betty was real, and important. Everything, asides from the newest addition to the file: the photograph Laura had taken from her and Carmilla’s attacker the night before. It was pinned up besides a yellow sticky note adorned with a scrawled _‘mystery suspect’_ , and considering its subject, Laura almost considered not including it.

It was hard enough having Betty stare at her, beaming in a photograph she couldn’t have known would potentially be her last. Having someone Laura knew besides Betty, someone who shouldn’t have been involved in the case, let alone in any danger, made the urgency even more pressing. If she wasn’t stubborn enough to take the load, she would have crushed under the weight of it.

She hadn’t looked at the picture until Carmilla was securely patched up and resting, but when she pulled it out of her pocket, hands trembling, she wished the vampire was awake to help calm her mild panic. Laura wasn’t sure what she’d see, but LaFontaine’s ever-optimistic face wasn’t it.

They weren’t close by any means. But they could be. Laf had taken Laura in with open arms from her first day, not once questioning her presence there, and supporting her drive to take on the Spielsdorf case. They made jokes and shared Perry’s baked goods and - well, Laura wasn’t entirely sure what their job in the office was, but their experiments certainly made life more exciting. The mere thought that they could be the next victim of the man’s attacks - the next missing person on a case going cold - prompted Laura to try ringing the alchemist again, cursing under her breath when she was met with the pre-recorded voicemail once more.

Considering trying Perry despite the late hour, Laura was ripped out of her own introspective thoughts by a noise behind her; eerily reminiscent of her own choking gasps from just hours before, Carmilla, still lying on her bed, was convulsing erratically, her throat constricting and desperate noises escaping arbitrarily. **“** Carm! **”** Laura was by her side in an instant, her hands automatically moving to brush dark strands out of the other’s suddenly translucent face, heart racing in panic as the realisation that she had _no idea how to help_ dawned on her. Carmilla seemed to be reflecting the sentiment: the rest of her body was subservient to her fit, but her eyes were flicking on the room, looking for anything to grasp onto and anchor herself in the present. Laura tried to meet her gaze, but the vampire was looking anywhere but; and when her eyes did finally choose their destination, it was on Laura’s hand, clasped around Carmilla’s own.

It took her longer than it should have to figure it out; almost too long, for Carmilla’s sake. Those eyes were ploring into the paper cut on Laura’s index finger, staring at it like it was her only lifeline, her only tether to regaining control of her body. Staring at it too, Laura finally found the answer to saving her friend as she had done for her in a dark ally, and though every trained instinct within her screamed at her not to, she used the only solution she had on her: herself.

Though still unable to speak, bar the indecipherable and heart-wrenching chokes, Carmilla seemed to endorse Laura’s realisation subconsciously: her fangs protracted as Laura lifted her wrist up to the other’s lips. The following sensations were nothing like the few and far between romantic vampire novels the girl had read in her youth.

When her delicate skin brushed past Carmilla’s ashen lips, goosebumps shot up Laura’s arm, and were the circumstances entirely different, she might have let out a slight giggle. But these goosebumps created out of unexpected friction soon turned to those emerging out of pure iciness: as the ivory teeth sunk into her skin, as if she was receiving two vaccinations at once, Laura felt a heavy liquid akin to lead spreading throughout her veins, her limbs all being overcome with a sudden lethargic feeling. It was as if the bite was accompanied by its own anesthetic: the feeling was numbing after the initial pinpricks of pain, and were she not adamant on staring at Carmilla beneath her the whole time, grateful for the colour returning to her cheeks, Laura would have happily slipped into unconsciousness then and there.

Not having really thought about consequences when she realised how to help Carmilla out of her hunger-induced fit, Laura suddenly became aware that the sensations hadn’t stopped, and that the vampire’s teeth were still deeply buried in her wrist. Carmilla’s eyes were closed, although her body had stopped convulsing and her lips and cheeks were rosy once more. Blood was being drawn out of Laura’s veins at a much slower rate and lesser volume, but she was reminded of why vampires didn’t feed out of live hosts anymore nonetheless.

Before she could become too worried, however, as fast as it had started, Carmilla had retracted her fangs and the connection between them was gone. Despite having blown pupils and tantalizing, escaped drops of blood falling off of her swollen bottom lip (and, morally, Laura shouldn’t find that attractive, right?), she seemed to have been returned to health: Laura was ready to allow her senses to shut down, as they’d been begging to since Carmilla’s lips touched her skin, and - if she’s being honest - since her breath had been forced out of her lungs earlier. She rolled on her side, now lying besides Carmilla on the bed instead of hovering over her, and although she knew she promised she was fine sleeping on the floor tonight, she wouldn’t have been able to move if she tried.

**“** Thank you, cupcake, **”** the brunette besides her whispered, and if they weren’t close enough for their hip bones to be touching, Laura would have missed it altogether in her fatigued state. She mumbled something unintelligible in return, feeling the bed shift as Carmilla turned to face the wall. Though their bodies were turned away from each other, creating as much of a distance as one can when sharing a single bed, the pads of their fingers were entangled. Neither of them moved it, whether too tired to, or knowing the other wouldn’t remember in the morning anyway.

The vampire fell back asleep with her arms wrapped around a yellow cushion she had found on the foot of the bed before passing out on it earlier, her near-starved self drinking in all the slumber and ease it could. The human allowed herself to rest, glad for the warmth of another besides her, though that comfort wasn’t enough to stop images of Betty and LaFontaine haunting her all night.

They woke up a lot closer than they were the night before, with arms around waists and toes teasing shins. Silently yet unanimously, they chose not to dwell on it.

 

* * *

 

**“** Ughh, that _tickles_ , **”** Laura mumbled under her breath. She hadn’t opened her eyes yet; for all she knew it was still the middle of the night, and her precious sleep (precious, because she really hadn’t gotten all that much of it since she moved to Silas) was being interrupted by _something_ tickling the crook of her neck. She tried in a futile attempt to move away from the source of her discomfort, but the more she shifted around, the more the _thing_ irritated her, until it was practically covering her whole face. **“** What the-- **”**

Deciding it wasn’t worth the last few seconds of slumber, Laura opened her eyes wide, a yelp involuntarily escaping her as she scuffled backwards. There was Carmilla, propped up on her side and staring right at her. As... _pleasing_ a sight as the vampire was, especially now restored to health, it was still a shocking thing to see first thing after waking up.

(The sight became less pleasing when Carmilla started laughing at her little outburst.)

**“** Okay, okay. Let’s all scare the human! Ugh, and to think I gave you my blood, **”** she retorted half-heartedly, fully committed to poking her tongue out at her new bed-partner were she not very aware exactly how childish that would be. **“** Oh, relax, cutie. Could’ve sucked you dry. **”** The smirk Carmilla occupied her words with sent Laura into flashbacks of Carmilla beneath her with her lips on her wrist, and she became overwhelmed with the knowledge that the two were _sharing a single bed_ . **“** But… **”** Carmilla continued, propping herself up on her elbow and using her free hand to trail a finger down Laura’s neck. **“** -where would be the fun in that? **”**

It didn’t escape Laura’s notice that she only seemed to be at a loss of words around Carmilla, and as annoying as that sensation was, the other ones her partner supplied her with definitely made up for the absence of her usual babbles. **“** I...I… **”** _Come on Hollis, say something intelligible, you know a lot of words, use them!_ **“** I…gotta’ pee! **”**

They say it’s the effort that counts, though, right?

Carmilla managed to summon the decency to suppress her laugh at that, instead opting for watching Laura roll out of the bed, pick out an outfit (because, _ew_ , sleeping in the same outfit she’d been wearing for over twelve hours was the worst) and practically run into the bathroom.

The pair had decided to visit _Silas Voice_ ’s headquarters first thing in the morning whilst Laura had been patching up Carmilla’s wound the night before (or, more accurately, whilst she was trying to ignore the hisses and vague threats and insults sent her way as she tried to stop the bleeding of someone who didn’t even have a heartbeat). The pain was evidently so severe that Laura would have been shocked if the brunette even remembered their slightly-unequal agreement - and she was proven right once more.

The sight of Carmilla standing by her doorway with her hands stuffed in her leather pockets (her signature stance, clearly) made her stop in the middle of her path. **“** Oh! I didn’t really peg you as an early riser. You don’t want to eat first, or anything? **”**

Really, she knew it was a stupid question as soon as she asked, and winced in preparation for the flirtatious comment Carmilla would surely reply with. Grabbing her jacket off of the back of her chair quickly and hurrying over to unlock her door, Carmilla was quick to meet her expectations, casting a sultry **“** I ate plenty last night, cutie, **”** and a wink her way.

Laura was so busy coming up with a snarky remark of her own as they left her apartment that she forgot to question why her computer screen was displaying a search browser, knowing full well that wasn’t how she left it when she passed out the night before.

And on their walk to the office, she was so focused on the way Carmilla’s dark curls bounced around her sharply outlined face, that she missed Carmilla sending a quick text to Mattie:

_‘If Mother sends her dogs after me again, this deal is off_.’

 

* * *

 

**“** Laura, hi. Do sit down. I, uhm - who’s this? **”** Perry paused her own greeting as Laura made herself comfortable on one of the three chairs opposite Perry’s desk (the similarities to just a few days being emphasised by Lafontaine’s presence also). The question wasn’t pointed at the intern, however; instead, both the red-heads in the room were looking at Carmilla in confusion, knowing full well she wasn’t part of their editorial team, or any other for that matter; Perry made certain she was familiar with everyone in her employment, sending them all personalised birthday and holiday cards. **“** Oh! Sorry, I should have said. This is my...liaison. She’s been imperative in providing me with contacts and leads on Betty’s case, **”** Laura was quick to reply, knowing Carmilla wouldn’t react too well to being booted out of the building. Besides, whilst she may have embellished their relationship slightly, and decided to omit anything about the whole double-blackmail schtick, she wasn’t _technically_ lying to her boss.

**“** Anyway, **”** she decided to plough through, not wanting to dwell on the matter too long lest Perry decide that dark stranger oozing sex, blood, and rock and roll shouldn’t be in her pristine, cream-coloured office. **“** I know I still have a day left, but I wanted to show you what I had. I wouldn’t usually waste your time, but-- well, I think you both might want to see this. **”**

(It’s highly possible that Laura grew up watching too many shows about plucky detectives and FBI agents - her cryptic wording was definitely not of her own creation.)

Lafontaine’s attention seemed to have been caught, and whilst Perry remained silent, her eyes were unfaltering. Laura considered that to be a sign to continue. Starkly reminiscent of her meeting in the police interrogation room the day before - and suddenly grateful for the existence of scarves to cover her bruises from later events of that evening (although no makeup could truly hide the bruises on her cheek) - she placed her folder on the desk, spreading the evidence they’d collected so far in the clear order Detective Kirsch had made for her. **“** We found Betty’s archived messages, and clearly she had some privacy issues because they’re all in Sumerian. The translations are there- **”** she pointed to Carmilla’s elegant handwriting, depicting what she was happy to assume were perfect adaptations of the messages, **“** \- and when we traced the IP address, it led us to the mayor’s office. **”**

Although she’d never admit it, her break in speech there was timed to correspond with her very real expectation that there’d be a collective gasp throughout the office at her revelation. Trying not to be disappointed at the lack of reaction besides Laf’s mouth gradually turning up in a grin, Laura continued, chin held high as she approached the real reason behind the meeting.

**“** Then, last night, we met with a potential suspect. He wasn’t _especially_ cooperative, but I did manage to get this from him. **”** Slightly-altered rendition of prior events relayed, Laura placed the photograph of Lafontaine, taken recently from close-range, onto the desk. Whilst not receiving the gasp she slightly-maybe-kind-of wanted, there was no longer a lack of reaction in the room.

**“** No. No, nononono, **”** came Perry’s voice, slightly higher in pitch than it was earlier. Lafontaine, on the other hand, had left their position from atop of the desk to stand behind Perry, their hands on the back of her chair. **“** Well, that’s definitely not creepy at all. **”**

Carmilla chuckled under her breath slightly at that, managing to cover it up with a cough. Despite her efforts, Laura glared at her over her shoulder quickly, before turning back to the matter at hand. **“** Yeah, tell me about it. But it gets weirder. **”** As she turned the photograph around to reveal two (currently unknown, considering lack of Carmilla’s insight) Sumerian symbols, written in bold black ink, the vampire left her corner of the room and walked to mirror Laf’s position, albeit behind Laura’s chair instead of Perry’s. **“** That’s the character for amagi, **”** she mused, head turning to the side in a feline manner as she took the photograph off of Laura. She looked up, gracing them all with a slight ‘o’ of her lips as she saw three eager yet confused faces staring up at her. **“** It means freedom. **”**

The photograph was passed around once more, ending in Lafontaine’s hands which, considering the circumstances, were surprisingly steady (despite being ink-stained in varying colours - another experiment gone excitingly wrong, Laura assumed). The only tell that they were concerned about a suspect in an ongoing kidnapping pandemic having their photograph in his pocket was the slight scrunch of their eyebrows as they stared at the symbols, a finger lifting to trace over the dried ink. **“** Not to rain on your parade or anything, frosh, but this doesn’t really make sense. All the victims have been predatorial girls. And I don’t fit either of those descriptors. **”**

The reporter couldn’t really argue with that; if Betty was an anomaly in the pattern the police had uncovered, then Lafontaine was even more so. But that didn’t mean all of her and Carmilla’s findings were wrong, and it didn’t mean the man who had tried to kill her last night had nothing to do with the current missing girls case. She was about to argue that point, but before she had the chance to even collect the words in her mind, Perry abruptly stood up, breaking her silent streak.

**“** No. That is...these are not things that happen. We’re supposed to find small leads and report breaking news and tie up the story with a neat little bow. And my-my friends aren’t supposed to have their pictures in the pockets of suspects. And _humans_ aren’t supposed to be involved in any of this. They’re supposed to write the gossip column about boy problems, or- or girl problems, or menstrual problems. Not absurd conspiracy theories concerning the _mayor_. I demand this stop happening, Laura. Just…be normal. Just _be normal!_ **”**

Perry ended her impassioned speech on a shrill note which left the glass of water on her desk shaking, and Laura was left wondering why the witch would ever need spells when she had lungs like that. Lafontaine, clearly used to these outbursts, had placed themselves back on the desk, looking like they wanted to be anywhere but there, yet still not willing to leave. All Laura could do was dig her fingernails into the palms of her hand, all knowledge of language having been stripped from her with each syllable Perry had spat her way. Carmilla, being Carmilla, of course seemed unphased.

Saving the human from her sudden inarticulacy, Perry delicately perched herself back down on her chair in the gentle antithesis to her spiteful words. After letting out one slow exhalation and smoothing her fly-away hairs back behind her ears, she offered a tentative smile towards Laura, as if trying to encourage a scared and jittery animal to come out from under a table. **“** Yes, yes, I think that’d be best. I think you should stay in the office from now on. Elsie always needs a helping hand on her column, and you’d be great for it. **”**

_No_ . She wouldn’t be great for it. She’d type out each word, seemingly comedic and satiric and genuine, but each fluff piece she was forced to write would forcibly extract an inch of her passion until she’d become like the people back home. Until she’d be willing, _wanting_ , to move back there.

**“** Maybe just give me your research, Laura. I can pass it on to the right people. **”**

_No_ . Every muscle in her body was resisting, each tendon and ligament screaming at the other to reject the commands her brain was sending her, to disobey authority and _hold on tight_.

**“** Uh, no. **”** Laura blinked, her eyes narrowing in confusion. As much as the words spoken repeated every sentiment coursing through her veins, they hadn’t come out of her mouth. The velvety cock-sure voice wasn’t hers. She’d recognise it anywhere nonetheless. Seeing the slight shock on Perry’s freckled face, Laura did her best not to smile at Carmilla’s decision to interject (though she highly suspected she failed in every respect).

Clearly no stranger in standing up to authority figures without a single fear or regret, the brunette shifted so she was besides Laura where she was sitting, her hands placing themselves on top of the files on the desk so that Perry couldn’t take them. **“** No, she won’t be giving you that. You gave her a photograph, a pen and two days to solve a case you guys haven’t cracked in months? Yeah, no wonder she needed to get help from a vampire, no one else here was willing to give it, right? **”**

She pushed herself back from the desk, giving Laura time to shift the papers into one pile and place them as neatly as possible back into the folder. Carmilla had taken to pacing around the room in a move which on anyone else would seem frantic and frenzied, but instead appeared as nothing but collected and cold when done by the vampire.  **“** Here’s the thing - you gave her the 48 hours, so technically we still have 10 left to find Betty. **”** Her black boots planted themselves on the cream carpet, and Carmilla’s eyes found their way to Laura’s with great ease. **“** And that’s exactly what we’re going to do, so if you’ll excuse us, we have a very big lead to follow, and a case to crack. **”**

(Laura should be worrying about how very likely it is that she’ll be fired in the very near future. Instead, all she could think and worry about is how she’s never been more attracted to anyone else in her life than in that moment.)

It took Carmilla plucking the file from her fingers and strutting out of the door to snap her back to reality, and thoughts along the line of _holy Hufflepuff I just ghost-spoke back to my boss and I’m going to lose my internship and my dad is going to be so mad about my lack of manners_ hit her head first, dizzying enough to make her worried about standing up.

**“** Uh, thank you, Ms Perry, for the 10 more hours! **”** Yep, that sounds smart, Hollis. Potentially make your boss even madder at you by pretending she had any decision in what Carmilla just ordered her to do. **“** And, uh, Laf! I’ll keep you updated on the -- you know, kidnapping conspiracies. **”**

Lafontaine was laughing, clutching their stomach as they bended over in a desperate attempt to not fall off of the desk. Perry was silent once more, her lips pursed so tight Laura was unsure if they’d ever open again, but it wasn’t the same absent look which signified a calm before a sudden-and-unexpected storm: instead, it was resigned, already having acknowledged the truths behind Carmilla’s word, despite the lack of respect from the stranger being unwarranted.

**“** Stay safe, Laura, **”** she spoke softly, her eyes burning a hole into her intern’s skin, but with no malicious intent being sent with the sincerity of her command. Finally realising she was supposed to follow Carmilla as she stalked out of the room, Laura jumped out of her chair, a grin taking over her features as she truly absorbed what had just happened: after saving her life the night before, Carmilla had stuck up for her yet again, despite having no precedent to do so. Maybe her paradoxical partner wasn’t as apathetic as she tried so hard to seem.

After thanking the the pair in the office once more - words of gratitude finely tuned in with vague apologies - Laura left the office, gradually leaving the shock she’d been sent into when the organised exterior of her boss became a frazzled mess of anger.

Carmilla was leaning on the wall adjacent to the door, arms crossed and the file dangling from one of her hands loosely. She straightened when Laura finally graced her with her company once more, although made sure that Laura had no reason to suspect that she’d begun to worry that her version of standing up for her human partner had actually gotten the reporter-wanna-be fired.

**“** So, **”** Laura sidled up next to her, taking the file to store it back in her satchel, **“** we’ve got a very big lead to follow, huh? **”** The brunette smiled at her. Laura didn’t need to verbally articulate her gratitude at being saved by Carmilla once more for the girl to understand it loud and clear. **“** Well, that’s actually _your_ department, cutie. I’m just the bodyguard. **”**

Laura wished she had the words to tell Carmilla that she’s so much more than that. For the meantime, she settled for placing a soft and quick kiss on Carmilla’s jawbone, not having the guts to draw her in close enough to get her cheek. As soon as she’d made contact, she pulled away sharply, refusing to gauge Carmilla’s reaction by meeting her gaze again.

 

* * *

 

When Laura told her she had to go around the floor before they left the building to swap information with the other reporters looking into the missing girls, Carmilla considered following her around. She had no idea why, but the thought of spending prolonged time with her newfound partner didn’t entirely repulse her. Though, after realising this sudden and sickening dependency, Carmilla realised that being the bodyguard was not something she could take on as a full time job, as much as it seemed necessary (it annoyed her beyond a doubt how everyone refused to listen to Laura, but it was evident from the moment they met that the underestimated human could stand up for herself perfectly well). She couldn’t have Mattie and Will calling her soft, after all.

Not knowing her way around the building at all, Carmilla found herself in the floor’s bathroom, locking herself inside one of the cubicles to sit down somewhat unwillingly on the closed lid of the toilet. As if on cue, her phone began to ring from the inside of her jacket’s pocket, and without needing to read the caller ID, the vampire knew instinctively who it was.

**“** Mattie, I told you not to -- no. No, that wasn’t part of this. I _never_ agreed to any of that. Mother said to make sure she doesn’t get too close. That’s all…-why would she need more? What does she expect me to do? **”** Her voice was bordering on spiteful as her words cut through the phone in an urgent and angry manner. She had to consciously control the tightness of her grip; she’d crushed too many mobiles in annoyance before, and it was becoming rather hard to explain. **“** Mattie, he _stabbed_ me. In what realm is that helping my cover? -- No. I’m not doing it. I won’t help her anymore. She can cut me off all she likes and--- _yes_ , I remember what she did last time. And _I don’t care_. **”**

Each word in her latter statement was drawled out, the enunciation heightened to convey the complete contempt which had come over her. **“** I’d take a coffin of blood over doing mother’s dirty work any day. **”**

Not wanting to hear anymore, Carmilla ended the phone call, shoving the device back into her pocket and opening the door so forcefully she hesitated slightly, expecting the door the come right off of its hinge. Recovering with a small cringe, she exited the cubicle and made her way over to the wide mirror positioned above the row of sinks. Coming face to face with her own reflection, Carmilla couldn’t help but to notice how much healthier she was looking, considering the stabbing and the near-starvation of the night before.

The only memories she had from the latter event were blurred, and even thinking about them left her in a deeper confusion than before. Despite the haze, it was clear what had happened - she had woken up with a deep, scorching hunger, desperate to leave her dead in a foreign apartment. Then, seemingly just a few moments later, yet feeling like an eternity had passed, she had woken up from a relaxed and comfortable sleep, arms around Laura’s petite waist, and feeling more refreshed than she had in the months since she’d been forced to retreat to the black market for food. Laura had saved her. They seemed to be forming a habit of doing that for each other, and the thought caused Carmilla to see a fleeting smile appear on her mirror’s image. Almost subconsciously, she brushed the pad of her finger across her jawbone, where’s Laura’s lips had unexpectedly found themselves moments earlier.

Just as she was preparing to leave and find out how much time Laura needed to spend here (she had, after all, committed herself to a regrettable 10 hour deadline), a cubicle in the far corner of the room opened, and a towering red-hair - _seriously_ , how many of them could be working in one building? - stormed out, coming to a stop directly next to Carmilla.

The brunette had checked each cubicle when she’d entered the bathroom, ensuring each one was empty. Clifford had to have entered sometime during the phone call, and her skin felt cold as she realised she had no idea how much the woman had heard. Keeping her gaze fixed on her own reflection, she mentally ran through her conversation with Mattie, comforting herself with the knowledge that nothing _too_ incriminating had been spoken

Turning on her heel to search for Laura, overcome with a scathing need to _get the hell out of here_ , the red-head spoke up just as Carmilla’s hand touched the doorknob, and nothing about her tone suggested a friendly conversation.

**“** I don’t trust your kind. No one does. So if you take advantage of Laura’s naivety in trusting you, it won’t end well. We’re a family here. **”**

Carmilla didn’t need to turn around to know that the girl was staring daggers into her leather-clad back. The words irked her, there was no denying that; from the harsh accusations against her ‘kind’ (a sentiment which didn’t really have much place in a modern era) to the fact that she definitely heard too much if she was worried about the vampire’s intentions with Laura - and how those two knew each other, Carmilla didn’t even _want_ to know.

She smiled, knowing she couldn’t engage in a proper conversation about this lest she gave more away than she could afford, or angered the giant enough to prompt her to kick her out of the building, or worse, relay what she knew to Laura. Instead, she quelled all the insults fighting each other to make their way up her throat, swallowing them all down as she opened the door.

**“** I think Laura can look after herself, **”** she threw over her shoulder as nonchalantly as she could, before stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind her, leaving nothing but a seething Danny in her wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, secret motivations have been revealed, and our tiny gay detectives have grown closer. Any one else sense a huge fallout coming soon? I sense a huge fallout coming soon...
> 
> As always, if you liked this, please let me know by leaving a comment. It's no secret that they're literally the fuel for any fic writer's mind. And a special thanks to everyone who subscribed to this fic recently; I love you all so much for making me enjoy writing thousands of words of content which wouldn't be enjoyed anywhere else but in this beautiful little fandom of ours.
> 
> Oh, and consider this chapter a present for the one-month-until-Carmilla-Movie-day and for the offical-Carmilla-poster-release-day. What did you guys think of the latter? I loved the neon lights font they used.
> 
> [[find me on tumblr @lauratothelettter]


	6. should i stay or should i go now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [chapter title from the clash, but i really like manicanparty's cover, which you should definitely check out]
> 
> this chapter is shorter than usual, and very much a set up for all the action and discoveries to come in the next one - so for now, enjoy this because it's pure fluff at its finest, and certainly isn't going to last ;)

Laura hadn’t taken as long as she would have liked to at the office. She knew the other employees there didn’t think much of her - for once not just because of her human condition, but also the fact that she seemed to have managed to usurp a role meant for someone of a higher rank than fresh off the boat intern. Not to mention the fact that she’d taken an offsite task after only two full days on the job; hard to make a good impression on someone when you’ve met them once and never got past quick and meaningless introductions (with the exception of Laf and Danny, of course).

Despite her relatively isolated upbringing - Carmilla wasn’t exactly wrong each time she brought up her ‘naive, provincial’ ways - Laura was not cut out to be anything but a bundle of social energy. She could do with quiet time, of course; her dad wouldn’t have got them a Netflix account if that wasn’t the case. But left alone to fester for more than a day and a half at a time with no form of communication at all, online or in person, with strangers or loved ones?

She went crazy.

So, when after only ten minutes surveying the journalists around the office, jotting down what little they could offer her in her favourite yellow leather-bound notebook, Laura found herself wanting to retreat out of the room, back into the corridor where she knew a certain black-clad beauty was waiting her for, she was confused to say the least.

Confused. She’d been feeling that a lot since she chased the vampire down the street and coerced her against her will to help her (and God, that was _so_ not a meet-cute). When their fingers would brush over a file, or their eyes would meet in a moment of rare silence. When her lifeforce was being crushed out of her and instead of running the other way, Carmilla ran _towards_ her, ran _for_ her. When she was straddling the brunette, saving her life and risking her own in one fluid movement, and feeling a total lack of fear. _Confused_.

She wasn’t meant to have any feelings for her lead. They were meant to find Betty and part ways. But ten minutes away from her since they began their mission, and Laura - who always prided herself on being exceptionally independent - missed her.

It was that feeling you get when you leave the house, phone in hand, and realise your headphones are on your bedside table. It was that feeling when you finally get through airport security, and the realisation that you didn’t pack your toothbrush slaps you in the face.

It was that feeling you get when you’ve developed feelings - romantic, _intense_ feelings - for the vampire who only tolerated your presence because you blackmailed her into it. When you know the person wouldn’t glance at you in any other circumstances, but you drink in every overanalysed look and glimpse and touch nevertheless. And you miss it. And you want it.

_Get yourself together, Hollis._

**“** And then I got reports of two sightings of SJ in town within the last week alone, so we’re beginning to think that maybe she’s just a runaway after all, **”** the blonde she was talking to continued, forcing Laura out of her (piney, gay) thoughts. Admittedly she couldn’t actually remember the girl’s name - something like Ella or Ellie or Elsa, though surely if it were the latter Laura would have made an inappropriate Disney-related joke. She hadn’t clocked on to Laura’s inattention, luckily, and carried on with her report which Laura’s hand scurried to note down. **“** I mean, at a certain point you’ve got to admit that maybe the police were right all along. Maybe these girls are just teenagers who got bored with their lives and wanted to stir a little drama. **”**

With a polite smile on her face, Laura nodded with the blonde, only her eyes betraying how vehemently she disagreed with the idea that the missing girls were anything but victims. Deciding that now would be the best time to make a swift exit (since she actually had a reason other than missing Carmilla playing the role of her shadow), Laura thanked Ella/Ellie/Elsa for her time, promising to join her and the others on the floor for drinks at the weekend. She may have disagreed with the reporter’s willingness to drop the case, but that definitely didn’t stop the little spring in her step as she went to find Carmilla, excited that she might be able to integrate herself into the workplace after all.

The spring and accompanying smile disappeared when she saw the storm brewing in Carmilla’s eyes, grey flecks drowning in the coldness that had been festering since Laura left. She reached out her fingertips for Carmilla’s arm, though dropped her hand at the last minute.

The spring and accompanying smile disappeared when she saw the storm brewing in Carmilla’s eyes, grey flecks drowning in the coldness that had been festering since Laura left. She reached out her fingertips for Carmilla’s arm, though dropped her hand at the last minute. **“** Everything alright? You’re looking kind of... _broody_ , **”** she finished her sentence with a grimace and an indecipherable hand gesture, though Carmilla (to her surprise) simply laughed off her comment, any tension leaving her facial features for a small, almost missable smile.

**“** Oh, you know, **”** the brunette matched Laura’s stride as they began to exit the building, shoulders occasionally bumping against each other in a mismatched rhythm. **“** Just wondering how long a certain munchkin was going to make me wait for her like I’m her chauffeur. **”** Laura was sure the words were meant to have some bite behind them, but Carmilla’s tone was soft. Something she didn’t even know she had inside of her melted.

Trying her best to shake off the _warmth_ settling in her chest, Laura laughed, purposefully nudging Carmilla’s side just as their feet met the pavement outside the newspaper’s headquarters. **“** Come on Carm, **”** she grinned, leading the pair towards a nearby coffee shop (because she needed some chocolatey recuperation after the night _and_ morning). **“** You’re also my bodyguard, remember? **”**

As they walked up to the counter to order their drinks, Laura thought she saw Carmilla’s fingers reaching out for her own. Clearly the lack of sugar was affecting her eyesight.

* * *

They were sitting on a bench outside the cafe (Carmilla hadn’t seemed too comfortable in the large crowd, so Laura got their hot cocoa to go) when she decided to bring it up again. Swallowing down her fear in light of their new found... _something_ , she shifted so she was angled towards the brunette at her side - the brunette who somehow made sipping hot chocolate in the middle of the day _sultry_ , of all things.

**“** So, I know you weren’t too keen when I brought this up yesterday, but considering we only have ten hours and we need to take just about any lead we can, you kind of _have_ to hear me out on this - not that it’s your fault that I have nothing! Not at all, that’s obviously on me, and kind of the SPD, but considering we actually _do_ have that thing, I think we should just, maybe-- **”**

Typically, Laura didn’t like when people interrupted her, no matter how warranted. But she didn’t seem to mind when Carmilla placed her palm on her shoulder, lips upturned in a smile and barely holding in a laugh. **“** Okay, cupcake, don’t hurt yourself. Why don’t you tell me your plan before deciding my reaction, okay? **”**

She sheepishly continued, this time at a much slower pace, but all the while _begging_ to all the Gods that Carmilla couldn’t hear her beating heart (because as much as she tried not to be fazed by it, _Carmilla’s hand was still on her shoulder_ ).

**“** I think that we should find a source in the mayor’s office and try and pry some Betty-related information out of them. Someone in there has to know something. **”**

In Carmilla’s defence, she took a very long and cleansing breath before she shot the idea down entirely. **“** Laura, _no_ . **”** Somehow sensing Laura’s rebuttal before she even formed it in her head, Carmilla continued, her (annoyingly) justified reasons against the plan shocking Laura into silence for the hundredth time since they met. **“** First of all, if you really think this is some kind of political cover up - which is a stretch from what you have - then do you really think anyone inside that office is going to willingly talk to a wannabe-reporter without any legal credentials? **”**

Fair point. It stung, just slightly, but it was fair.

**“** Not to mention that the minute they ask you for any evidence to back up _whatever_ claims you plan on making, you’ll have to admit that you got a vampire to hack into a missing girl’s account, and I’ll be shoved into silver cuffs and you’ll have to return to whatever small town you came from to be a _farmer_ or whatever it is you humans do outside of the city. **”**

Laura became quickly overwhelmed with the need to assert that her dad, in fact, was a dentist and not a farmer. She decided to keep her mouth shut, realising that probably wouldn’t help her case.

She sighed instead, looking anywhere but Carmilla’s face as she tried to form a coherent sentence in her head, knowing from experience that getting into an argument with someone just as stubborn as her was _not_ a good plan - the term ‘mutually assured destruction’ seemed to come to mind. So she waited until she knew Carmilla had definitely finished, and until that little spark in her which _begged_ her to fight back had calmed down.

The first thought that came to her was that Carmilla was absolutely right - no one would speak to her, even if she did take a more seasoned reporter or even detective with her. And she definitely didn’t have enough evidence backing up any of her claims, legally obtained or not. Her second thought was that there was no good reason why Carmilla would warn her off of the mayor’s office - still not wholly convinced her partner had suddenly become overcome with a need for justice, her adamant refusal to step near it was only slightly suspicious. Laura decided to focus on that when the vampire’s hand wasn’t on her shoulder and sweet, sugary hot chocolate wasn’t coursing through her veins.

**“** How do you even know how to do all the hacktivist type stuff anyway? **”** If Carmilla was shocked by her sudden change of topic, she didn’t show it, instead snorting at Laura’s choice of words. **“** I don’t think think any hacking I’ve ever done counts as _activism_ , cutie, **”** she smiled, it now being Laura’s time to pretend to not be surprised (because Carmilla? Willingly giving answers to questions? Today really was full of plot twists). **“** More like accessing things without authorisation which really, desperately need accessing. **”**

Laura smiled, wondering when she found moral grey areas so amusing, but knowing it definitely had something to do with the way her eyes kept on flicking down to the red flush of Carmilla’s lips.

She was willing to drop it, her eyelids fluttering as she took a long sip of her drink, not expecting Carmilla to continue. But just like all of her other assumptions that day, she was proven wrong. **“** I was always good at computers. If my nose wasn’t in the pages of Goethe or Kant, it was trying to decipher the code of my mother’s company’s programs. Eventually she noticed and brought me on board for the more hidden side of the business - I mean, you’ve seen it, so I’m sure you can guess why my CV might not be as embellished as it should be. **”**

As Carmilla’s velvet tone flooded her senses, Laura realised she didn’t want the ten hours to end. She wanted to spend days hearing stories about Carmilla’s past, a past which had to contain riches upon riches with each immortal year it retained. She wanted to know about her interests besides German literature and outdated philosophers (sorry, Kant) - what TV shows she watched and what her music playlists looked like, and if she wanted to share any of those things with Laura at all.

**“** What about you? How’d you decide that you wanted to be Lois Lane? **”** Carmilla had shifted to match Laura’s slight angle, unfinished drink forgotten in her loose grip as the pair ignored the rest of the street in exchange for honing in on each other. Neither had forgotten the time constraints they were under, but they’d been working off of pure energy and adrenaline for too long. A break - a short, necessary, and not-at-all prolonged break - wouldn’t hurt anybody.

Laura couldn’t help but smile as she recounted her love for mystery books and TV shows, and how she’d watch them with her mom before and after school. How eventually that manifested into a need to get to the bottom of everything - a deep and visceral fascination and hatred of mysteries. Her first big break when she caught the vice principal embezzling money from the first grade’s candy cane funds, and the day she learned that Silas had become the first city to eradicate all species discrimination laws, in all aspects of life. How she didn’t get a single full night of sleep at university as she did everything she could to leave school with the best credentials she could, even beating a literal _psychic_ in the final exams. The day she left for Silas to begin her life, and how different everything was to how she dreamed it would be.

Carmilla listened, acting the part of a perfect audience as she hung onto every word, laughing when appropriate and eyes gleaming when Laura’s clear determination shone through her casual demeanour. Laura knew she should have kept the story short - Carmilla was probably just asking to be polite, after all - but Carmilla’s gaze seemed to be silently encouraging her to continue. And she was nothing if not a sucker for those eyes.

Of course, she did leave some details out. The story of her mother leaving in the middle of the night; the one mystery Laura had yet to solve. The story of her overprotective dad equipping her with every (legal) chemical weapon known to man before she boarded the train in order to protect his only daughter against the very kind she was sharing a bench with right now. The story of how she feared that Silas, despite its antidiscrimination laws and creature inclusion programs, maybe wasn’t much different from her home town at all.

As she finished her story, Carmilla began to shake her head, her brown locks bouncing around her jawline. **“** What? **”** Laura couldn’t help but ask, feeling slightly embarrassed - she really needed to control her oversharing. **“** Nothing cupcake. Just-- you’re pretty remarkable, you know? **”**

Laura’s cheeks flushed pink (probably the most annoying aspect of being human and having a beating heart), and her fingers began to bounce on her thigh as she tried to form the numerous complimentary words she had in her head into one full sentence which _somehow_ summed up everything she was feeling for Carmilla without betraying her little crush when ---

\-- when she saw her. A slender body walking down the street, brown boots clicking against the pavement and blonde curls dancing to the beat. Her blue eyes were concentrated on the path ahead of her, but as Laura whipped her head to the side, she knew she recognised them.

It was Betty Spielsdorf.

Laura was on her feet before she could even think about the action, heels leaving the ground as she prepared to chase the girl down the street. Her heart rate was at its highest, jumping out of her chest as if in acceleration. She bounded forward, mouth opening to yell out the name she’d been thinking about for hours on end, the name she’d been searching for, and the name which just walked past her as if that wasn’t a big deal.

**“** Hey, wait. **”** Carmilla seemed to have noticed exactly what Laura did if her widened eyes were anything to go by. Laura looked down, not having noticed the vice grip Carmilla’s hand had on her own wrist. **“** What do you -- _Carm_. That’s Betty! We need to _talk_ to her! **”**

She tried to keep her voice calm as she yanked her wrist back, but Carmilla’s supernatural strength didn’t let up. The human’s excitement quickly turned to anger, unable to grasp why she wasn’t being allowed to run down the street like a crazy person and attack the girl whose picture had been haunting her dreams since she first saw it. **“** Carmilla! Let. Go. **”**

In her defence, Carmilla did loosen her grip on the other’s wrist, though not enough for Laura to be free of it. Her nerves were about to explode at this point - she could still see Betty, but the possibility that she could lose her again was becoming much too real for her liking. **“** Carmilla, _please_ , **”** she turned to begging instead of yelling, eyes which were fastened onto Betty’s back beginning to water in pure frustration and (that dreaded emotion rearing it’s head once more) confusion.

Finally the vampire let go, though only to take Laura’s shoulder in each of her hands to force the girl to look at her. **“** Creampuff, hey. Calm down, alright? **”** That warranted a scoff on Laura behalf; not everyone was able to stay so _apathetic_ all the time. Honestly, what caused the girl to be _so_ damaged that she would help Laura and then refuse to let her finish the job?

**“** Chances are that Betty is going back to wherever she’s been for the last few weeks. The other girls might be there. If we follow her, you might have a shot of finding the others. But the minute you run after her, she might start running too. **”**

Oh. Whatever Laura had expected, it certainly wasn’t those wise words of wisdom. She began to immediately regret her raging bad person thoughts towards Carmilla as she visibly relaxed in her grip. **“** I-- okay. Okay. That makes sense. You’re right. That makes a _lot_ of sense. **”**

Discarding their coffee cups in the bin beside the bench, the pair began walking down the street, a handful of people behind Betty. Their strides were perfectly in pace, and Laura’s anger was certainly simmered down.

As they watched their missing person hail down a cab and begin to climb in as she spoke with the driver, Laura’s attention turned to the rack of the city’s rental bikes on the curb beside them. Carmilla’s attention, however, had turned to a motorcycle by the rack, propped in park with a helmet hanging off of one of the handles. A storm had clouded in her dark eyes once more, but there was nothing broody behind them this time - just pure, unadulterated excitement.

It was a scary look, and also kind of a turn-on.

Luckily for Laura (because she really wanted to sit behind Carmilla in close range, her hips the only handles available to her), they didn’t have time to argue about it, as Betty’s cab began to drive down the street. Looking up to the sky (as if her dad was there, for some reason) to apologise for all the reckless behaviour she’d gotten herself into, Laura jogged over to the sleek motorcycle, Carmilla on her heels.

**“** You’ve totally stolen a motorbike before, haven’t you? **”** she grimaced in a hushed whisper as her partner began to do something inexplicable to her own eyes, tugging and connecting different wires as she turned the bike on. She never got a verbal response, but definitely didn’t need one when Carmilla looked over her shoulder at her, swinging one leg over to the other side of the bike as she sat herself down, beckoning for Laura to do the same.

  
Before she kicked the bike into motion, Carmilla grabbed the helmet and tugged it down over Laura’s head, gathering her caramel-coloured hair in one hand before draping it neatly over one shoulder. **“** Hold on tight, cutie, **”** she winked, and Laura barely had time to follow her command before they were racing down the highstreet, weaving between different cars with only one vehicle in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the plan for this chapter actually went a lot further, but i'm still trying to figure out if i want the ~big discovery~ scene to be told in carmilla's or laura's point of view. whilst i do that, i thought i might as well upload what is already here, since it's not technically a cliffhanger !!
> 
> as always, thanks for reading. find me on tumblr @lauratothelettter if you want to discuss this or anything else :)


	7. high above the smokestacks (throwin' my soul)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did someone ask for a chapter filled with exposition, feelings and a small cliffhanger? no? oh dear. that's what I wrote.
> 
> [chapter title from the song 'smokestacks' by layla. if you look hard enough, there's a lyric from the same song somewhere in this chapter too.]

Laura had learned several life lessons since arriving in Silas, but the one most prevalent in her mind at the moment was simple: she really, _really_ loved motorcycles.

Sure, she’d always loved the spy aesthetic. Early saturday mornings used to mean watching Spy Kids with her mum, her dad making breakfast, likely trying not to break out in hives as he listened to his young daughter proudly proclaim ‘ _I want to learn to fight too!’_ . Time spent on the playground at school meant cops and robbers, princesses and knights, jedis and stormtroopers. After school Krav-Maga practice was the longest period of time when the bubbly child would cease speaking her thoughts, instead focusing all of her hyperactive energy on the movement, the flow, the _fight_.

But it wasn’t her adventurous spirit, her overactive imagination, or her childhood fantasies which played a part in her new revelation. Rather, the reason was singular; it was brunette; it wore leather and black; it looked good with droplets of blood on her lips.

Sherman Hollis’ frequent lectures about road safety weren’t entirely lost on Laura, and rationally she knew that the speed at which Carmilla weaved them through the traffic was borderline unsafe. Yet no number of pamphlets or safety warning could change her mind: she was _meant to be here._

It couldn’t have been a coincidence, the way her hand gripped just above Carmilla’s hipbones, the girl’s curves providing the perfect resting surface and lifeline. It couldn’t have been pure chance, the way that her forehead, even with the helmet causing a significant obstacle, found itself resting against Carmilla’s shoulder blade, each minute movement in muscle being shared by two bodies.

It had to be real, this connection. Two strangers, finding each other only through messy blackmail and circumstantial evidence, ending up saving each other and talking with each other and - though Laura was hesitant to admit it, even in her thoughts - _liking_ each other.

Carmilla leaned sharply to the left, signalling a turn was coming up. Laura forced herself out of her unnecessary, untimely, very gay thoughts, instead putting all her effort into making sure the two didn’t topple off of the bike.

_Besides, she definitely doesn’t feel the same way, Hollis. Flirting is just her default state._

The thought had been flicking through her mind since the evening before, more often than she’d want to admit. She took it as a fact, a declarative statement - and yet, as she felt Carmilla’s body tense as Laura tightened her thighs around the brunette's body, just that slightest bit more, she began to doubt it all over again.

Her new found confidence when it came to facing unknown kidnappers and vampiric attackers aside, Laura knew she wouldn’t be able to voice what she was feeling to Carmilla once this all was over. She’d have to watch her walk away; it seemed to happen a lot to her. She should be used to it.

But the thought of not seeing Carmilla again still hurt. Still made something _defiant_ stir up a storm in her stomach. Still made her chest tighten and her hands involuntarily squeeze tighter on Carmilla’s hips.

Amidst her thoughts, all Laura could see were streetlights and cars flashing past her in a blur of colour. Carmilla’s growing smile as she felt the human behind her inch closer - if even possible at this point - was lost in the wind.

* * *

Carmilla may have seemed like she was focused on the road and the taxi in front of her, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Each one was focused on not turning too soon, on not instinctively taking her own route: on not letting Laura realise that Carmilla already knew where she was going.

They would arrive at a seemingly abandoned warehouse, and Carmilla was going to have to feign confusion and bewilderment right beside Laura. They would find the missinggirls - all fourteen within the same city they were taken in - and Carmilla was going to have to pretend to be excited that their mission had come to an end.

At the beginning of their partnership, her task was simple: follow the girl, keep tabs on how far she was getting, overwhelm her with ‘evidence’ (the Sumerian messages were always a nice touch to send a reporter reeling), and report back to Mattie. And it was going so, _so_ well. It had been for years.

No one had expected Laura Hollis. No one had planned for her incessant work ethic, or her genuine and undying dedication to a girl she’d never met. They were used to dealing with family members never losing hope in their daughters once they were returned to them, souls gone and predatory nature leading to a bleak future of institutionalisation or imprisonment. But Laura had no connection. She’d stumbled onto the scene unplanned for: and nevertheless, she changed _everything_.

Within a mere number of days, simple became unheard of. She began to get used to having a shadow; to having someone trust and believe in her. She stood in an alleyway waiting for a human to talk to police officers who would want nothing more than to get their hands on a vampire - but Carmilla waited, dutifully, like a docile animal, and she didn’t hate herself for it. She became so overwhelmed with this lack of hate that something inside of her begged for fresh air despite having no need to breath it in, and so she stepped away for a mere second.

She returned to see familiar hands on her partner’s neck, and the monster inside of her reared its ugly head, her vision flashing red as her new found hope threatened to disappear.

Mattie never replied to her text, though Carmilla was sure her thinly-veiled threat was not communicated to Maman. More Theos would be sent their way, and Laura would be caught in the crossfire until it was over. And Carmilla didn’t want to lose her. For the first time in two hundred years, she wanted to stand up for herself. There was a spark in Laura’s centre pulling her in.

She wanted to be pulled. She was pulled. And she was going to fight.

Carmilla smelled Betty before she saw her, as much as her senses were fixated on the human on the bench beside her. In that moment she knew she had a choice to make: distract Laura and let her continue the investigation to a dissatisfying end, or let her follow Betty to a conclusion which would end in them both fighting Mother’s plan and likely dying by her hands.

Under the former plan, Carmilla was sure they’d try and stay in contact afterwards - Laura seemed like the sentimental type - but with the secrets and the lies weighing on her shoulders, Carmilla would have to leave eventually. Just as she’d done a thousand times before.

There was no logical reason as to why Laura would be different. Why, when thinking of her mother subduing her, she felt _anger_ , _fear_ , a _need_ to stop it, instead of her usual apathy and acceptance. Why, when thinking of the inevitable heartbroken look on Laura’s face when she found out the truth, Carmilla felt sick to her stomach.

She didn’t want to hurt Laura. The human who forced her way into her life, who pushed Carmilla into doing things she didn’t want to do, and who placed her wrist on a vampire’s mouth as if the fangs could be trusted.

Laura didn’t recoil at the sight of them. Human culture was infused with anti-vampire propaganda, from the works of Vordenberg penetrating their schools, to the movies their society pumped out like clockwork. But Laura was stronger than all of that - she didn’t fear. She trusted.

Carmilla should turn the motorcycle around and drive them far away from her Mother. Escape Silas’ false hopes and dreams, its secret cults and kidnapped girls, its corrupt government and indoctrination. A human and a vampire. Laura and Carmilla. They could do it.

A tapping on her shoulder burned down that illusion. Coming to her senses, the brunette realised that the yellow car had come to a stop at the end of the road ahead of them. Coming to her senses, Carmilla knew Laura would never accept her once she found out the truth. And even if she did, she wouldn’t dare corrupt her like that.

She’d done it time and time before. The story always ended the same way.

The bike came to a standstill and Laura was moving behind her, taking off her helmet to better slot her chin on Carmilla’s shoulder.

 _Don’t react. Don’t react. Don’t react. Don’t react_.

 **“** We should park here to not raise suspicion or anything, right? Follow her on foot for now? **”**

Laura wasn’t stuck in the past, thinking about regrets and mistakes and wrongdoings and manipulative, cruel mothers who would never grant her the freedom she begged for the minute she surfaced from a coffin flooded with blood.

Laura wasn’t thinking about what would happen between them once the bubble they’d been working in for almost a week was gone. Laura was thinking about Betty. Carmilla could pretend to do that too.

 **“** Lead the way, Creampuff. **”**

* * *

As abandoned buildings home to a minimum of one kidnapped girls went, this one was creepy. The architect clearly had a love for the Gothic horror past, with the front garden decorum consisting mainly of gargoyles and foreboding trees, but the building itself - definitely not the original, since the atmosphere demanded more of an eighteenth-century schloss than a modern storage place - was mundane.

They were driving for no longer than thirty minutes. The girls had been a bus ride away from where they were taken. Laura’s faith in humanity and all other species diminished with each step they took towards Betty.

The blonde in question had slinked through the door, never catching sight of Laura or Carmilla as they watched her from around the corner. The reporter insisted on taking photos of their location and marking down their exact coordinates; after all, if anything fruitful came out of this, the police would need to do at least the easy part of their job after the duo did all the heavy lifting. Carmilla hadn’t complained, leaning against a wall as she watched Laura go about her work.

Her face was neutral as ever, but a storm was brewing in her dark eyes. Tentatively, Laura brushed her fingers against Carmilla’s cooler ones, attempting in the only way she knew to soothe the tension in her friend’s face.

It didn’t work, but their hands remained entangled as they walked into the building together.

Laura walked with her shoulder back and her chin high, using her well-practised method of faking confidence until she felt it settle into her bones. The interior of the building should have been difficult to navigate - there seemed to be more staircases than logistically possible - but a silvery, carefree voice served as a focus point to walk towards.

 **“** I sent the message you asked for. _Gods_ , it was so nice to be outside. The fresh air, the buzz of life all around me, **”** the voice was talking to an unheard figure, her tone light and yet conveying something locked inside. She continued, her sentences wistful, and Laura tried hard to connect the dialogue to the image of Betty she’d been building in her mind since she first saw her photo. **“** There was this primal pull inside me, tugging me towards the hospital. It was like I needed to cast my healing spells, _help_ in some way. I had to get a taxi back to stop myself from running towards it. I’ve never felt like that before. **”**

Laura frowned at the words, remembering what Danny had told her about Pow-Wow witches, Betty’s species: the type of witch which never cast spells to hurt, but rather spells to heal. The category of predator which didn’t fit neatly enough into the case for Betty to be searched for.

They inched closer, and she could sense Carmilla’s anxiety beside her, though had no explanation for it. The vampire surely was used to dark buildings and shady business - it seemed she worked in one, after all - and yet it was the human in this situation who took sure steps without shaky fingers.

Fingers Laura knew were shaking, because her own hand was wrapped around them still.

The pair stopped simultaneously outside the door to the room Laura assumed Betty (and co.) were in. They turned to look at each other, Carmilla’s eyes full of fear yet defiance, and Laura’s filled with uncertainty and excitement.

 _This is it_ , she thought, her heart pounding too fast to be healthy.

 **“** This is it, **”** she spoke, smooth and welcoming to entice Carmilla into feeling the same way.

 **“** This is it. **”** Laura looked up in surprise as Carmilla repeated her words, her pale hand tightening its grip around her own, cold veins meeting warm ones, stone meeting flesh. 

Her free hand gripped the brass handle, opening the door wide enough for the two to step inside and take in what laid before them - to take in what days worth of investigating and running and fighting and bonding had culminated in.

* * *

Betty turned to face them first, her eyes fixated on the bruises around Laura’s neck and the hidden scar on Carmilla’s abdomen. She could smell the pain, and had to close her eyes and breath through her nose to stop her desperate desire to heal.

All Carmilla could do as the other figure in the room turned around was run the pad of her thumb across the back of Laura’s hand, committing the way her skin and bones felt, knowing she wouldn’t feel the warmth again as soon as realisation dawned on the human.

 **“** Ah, my glittering girl. How nice of you to finally join us, Carmilla. And you brought the poppet too. **”**

Mayor Morgen stepped towards them, and Laura’s right hand clenched. Carmilla watched from the corner of her eyes as she took the room in; categorically observing all seven cells behind a sealed glass wall, each filled with two single beds and and two missing girls watching them with wild, hungry eyes. Her head tilted to the side, mouth moving as if trying (and failing) to get a strong enough grip on all the words overwhelming her mortal mind. Her hair whipped her own cheeks as she turned from the mayor to her vampire, repetitively, almost comically, but Carmilla could never have laughed at the sight with the bitter taste settling on her tongue.

She’d seen it a million times before: recognition was slamming into Laura like a speeding van on the highway. Every question she had - why Carmilla had helped instead of snapping her neck, why she translated and hacked instead of drinking her dry, why she fought off an attacker with a knife instead of running in the other direction - was silently yet surely being answered for her.

Just as always, Carmilla would never get time to explain to Laura - the threats against her, the sword of damocles swinging above her head, the years and years of atoning in a coffin of blood just not being enough to purify her wrongdoings in the past, so why not create more? She’d never get to say how she felt; the first spark of hope in a century, and the first feeling of fear at losing it.

Laura would turn and run if Mother didn’t get to her first. Carmilla would watch and sacrifice the last piece of her soul.

But —

The scenario had never happened with Laura Hollis before. The girl who threatens vampires instead of reporting them, and who embodies the belief that everyone is innocent - no one is a monster - unless proved otherwise. Somehow she stood taller, steel clouding over her bright, curious eyes, and even as her mother was in close enough distance to break her spine, she didn’t cower away.

The flicker of hope inside Carmilla grew, the collective embers making a flame.

 **“** Mayor Morgan, **”** Laura began, and just as Betty seemed to be working against every instinct to send a spell their way, Carmilla pushed against all her impulses to stand between the girl she wanted to fight for and the woman she wanted to fight against. **“** Uhm - I guess I’d like to ask you a few questions. **”**

Lilita laughed, ushering Betty back into her room with one hand gesture, black pupils not darting away from Laura once. Just as soon as it started, her cackle stopped, and silence flooded the room, somehow deafening in the vampire’s ears.

Her hands continued to shake, knowing everything was going to come crashing down.

It was only later when she realised Laura’s fingers were still entwined with hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to those who are familiar with zootopia, you'll know we are very far from the end of this story - which is good because I love writing this, but also not good because I'm clearly terrible at writing under pressure. 
> 
> (that being said, I hope it's good news for you guys who are reading, kudos-ing and commenting c: )
> 
> side note: was switching perspectives in this chapter confusing?? it was the only way to avoid retelling the same sections, as I thought I might have to do with this pivotal reveal.
> 
> I don't know when I'll be able to update next. I'm very focused on exams right now, and literally only wrote this chapter today because I somehow got inspired by watching Spy Kids?? either way, I hope the next one doesn't disappoint - and thanks for reading and sticking along with this weird story! :-)


	8. i keep a close watch on this heart of mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years! Maybe my 2018 resolutions should include having a regular updating schedule. But why would I set myself up to fail?
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful 2018. I'm excited about where this story is going now - after this part is concluded in the next chapter, 'Act I' of this fic is officially done! I'm sorry this has been so irregular. It must make reading it a struggle. But thank you to all of you who are reading it nonetheless.

Laura’s mind had short-circuited. It was the only way she could explain how slowly she was processing the overwhelming amount of information confronting her. It was the only was she could explain how she didn’t notice the fourteen girls sitting in the same room as her, watching her through glass windows and doors with anticipating eyes, until the mayor began to laugh. It was the only way she could explain how she didn’t realise before that nothing Carmilla had done added up - she was so distracted by brunette locks and star-spangled eyes and a mission to complete, that she didn’t understand what was right in front of her.

Laura had blackmailed Carmilla into helping her, but didn’t realise that she was being played right back. Behind each helpful act and comment was a dark shadow, pulling Carmilla’s strings like a marionette, making her do everything she could to push Laura in the wrong direction.

Her mind wasn’t working too slowly, however, because one thing to Laura was as clear as day: at one point the strings must have snapped, because the plan - the _Mayor’s_ plan - didn’t work. Carmilla had nudged her in several directions, surely trying to dizzy her, that was certain; but she saved her life when she didn’t need to, and she protected her when she didn’t need to, and they became friends (something more powerful than friends) when there was no survival value to it at all.

Taking a deep breath in, and releasing each crowding thought as she exhaled, Laura smiled, and tilted her head up to meet the Mayor’s steely glare. She wasn’t going to be intimidated, because she had already won: she found the girls, and she was going to break the story for the Silas Voice, and Carmilla’s fingers still entangled in hers could only mean one thing.

 **“** Mayor Morgan, **”** Laura began, continuing despite the feeling of Carmilla tensing beside her. **“** Uhm - I guess I’d like to ask you a few questions. **”**

Lilita laughed, ushering Betty back into her room with one hand gesture, black pupils not darting away from Laura’s own once. The sound stopped abruptly, and the chilling silence invaded Laura’s bones, causing involuntary goose bumps to raise on her skin. Lilita Morgan took a few steps forward, her black heels clicking against the floor the only sound other than Laura’s faint breathe (which she was trying desperately to control).

 _Don’t flinch Hollis. Don’t give her the upperhand. You know Krav Maga. You_ are _a weapon_.

 **“** Why did you take these girls, **”** she spoke again before the Mayor had a chance to make whatever wittily crafted insult she had loaded and ready-to-go. Laura wasn’t expecting a straight-out explanation, of course (though she could totally imagine the Mayor ranting on about her evil plans in a very Disney villain-esque way). She just wanted _something_ that she could bring back to Perry.

Despite being mere inches from her face, Lilita was no longer addressing Laura, her eyes attached to the human but her words clearly aimed at the vampire by her side. **“** Oh, Mircalla. Don’t tell me it’s happened again, has it? **”** Laura risked a glance to her side, taking in Carmilla’s reaction to the Mayor’s words: her features hardened, and her fists clenched, tight enough to hurt Laura’s fingers ( not that Laura would ever let go).

 **“** I mean, really, **”** Lilita continued, now pacing around the room with a lordly composure. **“** I sent you to this one all of a _week_ ago and you’ve already adopted her as your little pet. As if what happened to the other ones isn’t enough for you to realise your place by now. **”**

The faux-gentle voice Lilita had adopted wore off towards the end of her sentence, ending her accusation with a tone sharp enough to cut through all the confusion in Laura’s head. Carmilla’s own glare seemed to be faltering with the Mayor’s (her boss’s?) words. Laura wished she would turn around and look at her, so she could communicate in some way that she was still on her vampire’s side. That there was no way they were giving up now.

Instead, she stood in statue-form, all fear at their situation being replaced by anger. Anger that she was being called a ‘pet’ in that horrible, pedantic tone she had heard her entire life. Anger that the Mayor, for whatever reason, had control over Carmilla. Anger that Laura was powerless in this moment, unable to help, forced to watch.

 **“** And now you dare -- you have the _audacity_ \-- to march in here with your little sunbeam. **”** The sickeningly sweet voice was back, but the venom behind each word made the urge to run even stronger. Lilita had strided back over to them again, and she lifted one finger to tuck a stray curl of Carmilla’s hair behind her ear. Laura’s questions about the nature of their relationship multiplied by a thousand. **“** What was your plan, darling? Were you going to watch the human try and report me to the police? Or were you planning on fighting me? **”** She laughed, patting Carmilla’s cheek before gripping her chin tight enough to leave paler imprints on the vampire’s skin. Laura cried out, instincts causing her to surge forward, but Carmilla held her back with one arm, not letting her get closer.  

Pulling her forward by the chin, the Mayor towered over Carmilla, and despite having no idea which species she was (it was one of the major points of her campaign to not reveal it -- though the media speculated she was a being so ancient there weren’t more than a handful left), Laura knew that one hand alone would be enough to seriously endanger the vampire’s life. **“** I know how your mind gets confused sometimes, Mircalla. And you know how much I hate to hurt you. **”** Carmilla scoffed at the latter sentence - past and present actions certainly proved otherwise. **“** But darling, there’s only so much of this childish rebellion I can handle. You need to understand, **”** Lilita’s voice careened off into a whisper, somehow increasing her predatory nature, **“** that this is your last chance. **”**

Each word carried a punch behind it, and as she stood behind Carmilla’s outstretched arm, without knowing the whys or hows of the situation, Laura knew exactly what hidden message the Mayor was trying to convey. She’d ruined Carmilla’s mission when trying to complete her own. The Mayor wanted reparations in Laura’s life.

Her entire life was centred around the idea that she was prey - the weakest of all, no less. Horror stories for her kind focused on the dark creatures that could overpower her with a single move; the same dark creatures that lived mere neighborhoods away. But Laura was never afraid of these stories. Rather, they piqued her interest - she would ask her father questions about why he installed more locks on the door than anyone else had, and why he covered her eyes during the six o’clock news, and why he never let her play with Isadora, the new girl who periodically missed school for a couple of days each month. She was brought up be afraid, and was told repeatedly, by her father and her friends and her teachers, that fear was her most powerful emotion.

But as she stood there in the warehouse, surrounded by fourteen kidnapped girls, a corrupted government official, and a vampire squeezing her hand protectively, Laura wasn’t scared at all.

Carmilla seemed to be reciprocating the sentiment (and a part of Laura thought the vampire was feeding off of her own stubbornness, extracting it from the tether between their fingers). **“** You’re the one who needs to understand, mother. **”** The brunette, despite only just being free of Lilita’s grip, took another step in her direction, and Laura watched as the power dynamic the Mayor built up tumbled down piece by piece. **“** I’m not confused. I just don’t want to do your dirty work anymore. **”**

Clearly that wasn’t the right thing to say, and as Laura’s heart accelerated due to the words, a sinister smile overtook the Mayor’s porcelain features. Carmilla’s rebellion wasn’t unexpected, that much was clear - Laura suspected she was merely filling in for a role in a scene that had been performed for centuries before her time.

The Mayor decided not to answer. She had another punishment aside from her scathing syllables in mind. She walked over to the nearest cell and typed in a key code on the mechanic lock on the door. Without a falter in her step, and without a single obstruction, she walked into the corner of the room, thrilled to watch the next act in the play.

* * *

In the multitude of horror stories Sherman Hollis had departed to his daughter - an interesting (and futile) parenting technique to try and convince the young girl that the outside world isn’t interesting after all - a wide and diverse cast of supernatural predators had featured. Laura’s favourite were the fairies, which seemed like a normal trait for a child to have, until she revealed one night that they were really her favourite because they can jump from any heights and fly with the birds.

That night, Sherman Hollis installed childproof locks on every window in the house.

One creature that had never featured were spriggans. They existed, of course, but when assimilating to humanoid culture over the centuries of adaptation processes, spriggans became more docile - a public nuisance, at most. Losing most of their tree-like features, the faery spirits now had a certain knack for getting away with things, making most descendents destined to become shoplifters or participants in petty crime. Once, however, their mischievousness wreaked havoc on anyone who dared trespass on their land: they could aim whirlwinds, mists and thunder and lightning at children who strayed into their forests, could tear the soul out of newborns and replace it with the spirits of their own demonic kin, and attacked anything which had the humanistic form they now walked around with.

Laura had only heard of them from her late nights researching Silas - there was a big spriggan eco-fashion community which had recently taken the city by storm. The one she saw standing in front of her as it departed from the dorm/cell the Mayor had opened was nothing like the ones now featured in vegan fashion magazines, however. It - _she_ \- had lost her human form almost completely, skin replaced by coarse tree bark, with limbs long enough to make walking a struggle for the creature. Its spindly fingers had sharp, pointed edges, as if the thing - the kidnapped girl - had spent her time in imprisonment whittling her nails. Her eyes were black holes, but somehow they still conveyed some kind of emotion; the only _normal_ part of the scene in front of her.

Though their hands were no longer entwined, Carmilla was close enough for Laura to hear her muttering profanities under her breath, the pair taking a step back for each long stride the Spriggan took forward. As Laura glanced around the room in search of an escape route (purposefully avoiding the pleased look the Mayor wore from the corner), Carmilla analysed the creature for a weak point to attack. The vampire took a defensive stance, fangs protruding from delicate gums, and was ready to pounce when a second figure left the opened cell. The girl had long, thick brown hair, and was dressed in lilac floral-print dress and birkenstocks.

The tanned skin around her mouth, dripping with blood and decorated with torn pieces of flesh, contrasted the dainty outfit. The girl’s eyes were glowing orange - a tell-tale sign of a werewolf having transitioned on a full-moon. Laura frowned; werewolves lost their ability to transform on command millenniums ago. This one clearly hadn’t got the memo.

Carmilla faltered at the emergence of a new threat, knowing she wouldn’t be able to take them both on without one getting to Laura. Before she could strategise, heart rate increasing as she realised her Mother’s plan (Lilita always did love to watch her daughter see her pets killed), a thick, soupy fog filled the room. With her heightened senses, Carmilla could just about make out the faint silhouettes of the four women in the room. She yelled out for Laura, trying to navigate them back towards each other, but the fog filled both of their ears. Carmilla watched as Laura’s figure took too many steps in the wrong direction, moving closer and closer to the towering spirit waiting to grab her.

So focused on the journalist, trying to fight her way through the mist to get to her, Carmilla didn’t hear the werewolf’s snarl until it’s ( _her_ ) claws were embedded in her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no idea what a spriggan was before I started this chapter.
> 
> This is only short because the next one is going to include at least three very important plot pieces. Stay tuned!!!
> 
> [[find me on tumblr @lauratothelettter !!]]


	9. oh, but anyone who knows what love is will understand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exams start in two days, so I thought I might as well upload the next chapter now. It's quite long, which I hope is a good thing. Think of it as a belated Christmas present!

All Laura had wanted to do was move to a new city, achieve her dream job of being an investigative journalist, and just generally kick ass whilst proving everyone who ever doubted her wrong. Nothing in that plan indicated that she wanted to be attacked by supernatural predators not once, but _twice_ in a week. She must have really pissed Fate off in a past life.

The fog robbed her of her senses immediately, and Laura lost all sense of direction. She took a few steps towards where she thought Carmilla was, yelling her name in a futile attempt to hear her own voice. The only sound was her own blood beating in her ears, and a faint, low growl of the werewolf, clearly affected by the _something_ that made the other girls’ predatorial natures enhance. Her hands were stretched out in front of her (not that she could see them), and her fingers brushed what she hoped was Carmilla’s jacket.

It wasn’t.

The spriggan had Laura on her back on the floor before she could defend herself. Long, winding branches making up arms pinned her limbs down, and whilst the creature wasn’t especially strong, the fog it was creating certainly worked in its favour. Unable to see, Laura relied on touch - she could feel the heavy weight of the creature, sitting on her knees and pressing twigs into her forearms. The faint breath exuding from the spriggan’s mouth penetrated through the fog, and if she could move her arms Laura would have waved it away. The mist surrounding them was becoming denser, as if instead of reaching its tendrils across the whole room, it decided to focus on the spot Laura and the girl were situated in solely. Yelling for Carmilla once more, Laura didn’t have time to anticipate the sharpened fingers hovering over above her - the wooden nails scratched along both her arms, leaving raw and red rake marks in their wake.

Clenching down on her tongue in pain, Laura didn’t let the loss of weight on her wrists go to waste. She drove her elbow into the creature’s throat, the force of the throw making it falter slightly. Before it could regain the upper hand, Laura kicked out a leg and flipped their positions; now sitting on top of the spriggan, she grinned as she hit at its jugular again, adrenaline making her celebrate her preemptive victory and making her forget that she has no idea how to incapacitate a tree-person thing. The fog around them changed - it began to move in a circular direction, speed increasing as the whirlwind encompassed them. Gritting her teeth, Laura refused to be intimidated, and despite the screams of winds causing her head to spin, she grabbed the girl’s head. The woven bark that made up its skin made it easy for her to place her fingers inside the little welts, and as her hair flew in all directions and she yelled words she couldn’t hear a breath of, she lifted the spriggan’s head up before slamming it down on the floor with all the force she could muster.

The whirlwind and any remaining mist disappeared, being sucked into the absent eyes in the spriggan’s face. It was unconscious - for now, at least - and despite every bone in her body begging her to lie down and rest, Laura scrambled away from its body, using shaking legs and bleeding arms to stand up once more.

She tried her hardest to not think that that _creature_ was actually a victimised kidnapped girl.

Two clashing growls proved distraction enough. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, Laura was confronted with the sight of Carmilla, fangs out and dripping blood down her clothing (all the black was starting to be explained). She was fighting the werewolf-girl still, and although there was no clear loser, neither participant was coming out victorious. Carmilla had blood coming from slashes on the back of her jacket, and matching scratches on her face to the ones Laura sported on her arms. The werewolf in turn was peppered with bite marks, and a wound in her leg that made her lunges slow enough for Carmilla to dodge. Seeing the girl about to pounce on Carmilla’s back (she must have been distracted by the disappearance of the mist), Laura cried out, grateful that she could finally hear her own voice despite the persistent ringing in her ears.

Carmilla’s head snapped up at the cry, as did the werewolf’s. The girl was confused by the new sound, turning around to assess her new prey. Her own fangs - larger than Carmilla’s, more wolfish - were bared as she grinned, ready to run at Laura despite her injured leg. Before she could lunge, however, Carmilla had her coarse hair gripped tight in her fist, and in a feat of superhuman strength that had Laura’s heart stutter for reasons she really didn’t have time to analyse right now, the werewolf was hurled across the room, hitting the same wall the Mayor (no longer smiling) was leaning against.

Unlike the spriggan, this predator wasn’t reduced to unconsciousness. Laura was by Carmilla’s side once more, hands desperate to run themselves through her hair and soothe her wounds, but mind screaming at her to _run, run, run_. Her palm clasped around Carmilla’s, fingers slotting themselves together as if that were their purpose all along, and she jerked her in the direction she had started to sprint in.

Lilita Morgan was yelling something incoherent - Laura wasn’t even sure if it was English, but then again she was pretty sure her hearing had been permanently damaged. Neither partner bothered to look back in her direction, knowing one second wasted would be a second the weregirl could use to bring their fight to a stark conclusion. Carmilla didn’t question Laura’s initiative, following dutifully as the human yanked her into the cell room the Mayor had let the predators escape from.

Laura slammed the glass door behind them, gasping for air as she heard the _click_ of the mechanical lock on the door. She knew Lilita had the key code, that they were far from safe, but at least the werewolf on the other side of the room (and the tree spirit, beginning to stir in her slumber) were being kept at bay. Before she could even worry about that, she whipped out her phone (only slightly smashed, which was a miracle considering the circumstances), and typed a message out to a recently-added contact as the Mayor’s _tap, tap, tap_ of her heels on the tiles sounded closer.

Soft fingers were on her arms, tracing the jagged lines the spriggan left. Laura turned to see Carmilla, standing impossibly closer, eyes filled with concern and pain - Laura expected it wasn’t physical, despite the tough fight the werewolf had put up. The Mayor was now standing in front of the cell door, steely eyes and sharp frown enough to make Laura instinctively take a step backwards, Carmilla following her lead. Lilita approached the lock, ready to deal with the nuisances herself, when Laura held up her cracked phone screen against the glass, smiling faintly despite her trembling hands.

 **“** I wouldn’t do that if I were you. **”** The Mayor looked amused, peering at the phone. Laura, used to being underestimated by now, knew Lilita would have no problem in stretching out their execution. **“** Pray, do tell why, **”** the imposing woman asked in a patronising tone, typing in the first key of the code.

Carmilla looked at Laura as if she wanted to ask the same question, before letting her eyes drift around her, hoping there’d be something in the dorm-style rooms that she could use to protect herself. Laura didn’t seem concerned with fighting, however. She held her phone as if it could stop the mightiest of predators.

 **“** I just sent our exact coordinates in an SOS message to Detective Kirsch of the SPD. And, he’s been on stand-by for a while now, so I don’t expect him to be far out. **”**

Lilita frowned despite trying to keep her features smooth. Ancient gods didn’t show weaknesses in front of the species they used to accept as sacrifices, after all.

 **“** It seems like you’ve got two choices here, **”** Laura continued, feeling more confident as Carmilla returned to her side to see the text. **“** Waste your time killing us - and it won’t be quick, because we _will_ put up a fight - and then try and escort fourteen savage predators out of here without any patrol officer seeing you. **”**

Carmilla’s eyes were inquisitive, and Laura used them as her lifeline. Her morals were screaming at her not to finish her statement - she knew what option the Mayor would take already, and it was an option that would make putting a kidnapper to justice and curing the girls a million times harder.

The hazel flecks among a dark chocolate ocean made it clear to Laura that sometimes morals had to be sacrificed. She crossed her fingers as she continued, hoping it would be worth it.

 **“** Or- **”** she spoke again after a slight pause, her audience hanging on to every word. **“** Or, you can leave now. You know I won’t be able to tell anyone it was you here. I have no evidence, and it would put all of these girls in danger. **”** She didn’t voice that those ‘girls’ included Carmilla, her true priority. **“** You’ll get away with this. **”**

The Mayor kept her upright posture and her stark glare, but it was clear that she was considering it. Laura smiled, pocketing her phone again. _We’re going to live through this_. Fingers found Carmilla’s at her side once more.

Lilita was walking away, shoulders back and chin high as if she wasn’t non-verbally admitting defeat. As her hand touched the door knob of the only exit in the room, Laura spoke once more, voice raised to make sure the enemy would hear her from across the room.

 **“** But don’t think I’m giving up. Because this isn’t over until you’re behind bars. **”**

There was a faint laugh. As she left, only Laura and Carmilla, trapped but secure from the predators surrounding them, remained.

 

* * *

 

They decided to stay in the dorm room until Kirsch arrived with his SWAT team to detain the girls. Really, there never was another option - neither Laura or Carmilla were prepared to face the possessors of the room they now inhabited.

Laura was using the small sink in the corner of the dorm to wash her cuts, wincing each time she came across a splinter to pull out. Every now and then she was glance behind her shoulder, watching Carmilla, who hadn’t moved since she claimed the twin bed on the right as her own (though not before grabbing a yellow pillow from the other, which she was now hugging close to her chest). She hadn’t spoken since Lilita Morgan left the room, and though the details on their arrangement and relationship was still blurry, Laura knew standing up to the Mayor like that carried more meaning for Carmilla than her human mind could ever understand. The clear picture of guilt and shame (and _fear_ ) etched on the vampire’s face said enough.

Drying her arms off with a towel, Laura ran some tissue under the tap, approaching Carmilla’s bed tentatively as if she were a wounded animal. The brunette didn’t acknowledge her, which Laura took as silent permission to perch herself on the edge of the mattress, hip bone touching Carmilla’s elbow. **“** Do you mind if I-- **”** she spoke softly, trailing off with an indefinite gesture as she waved the tissue in the air, wincing when droplets of water flicked around the room at the movement. Carmilla offered a small smile (a victory in Laura’s eyes), and nodded.

Completely out of character, Laura wasn’t sure how to go about the conversation she felt they needed to have. With each gentle stroke of the tissue on Carmilla’s scratches, she tried to convey all the emotions practically crippling her -- the fact that she wasn’t upset or angry that Carmilla wasn’t on her side from the beginning (after all, Laura was working under the assumption that _she_ was the bad-guy blackmailer in this situation), or that she wanted Carmilla to continue helping her on this, or that whatever the Mayor had been using to manipulate her for whoever knows how long, they could defeat. Together.

The silence grew, and in the end, it was Carmilla who broke it.

 **“** They aren’t the first girls to go missing. And you aren’t the first to wonder why. My job has been to distract and dissuade and...and to intimidate and hunt. For so long. **”**

Laura stopped the movement of her hand, all her senses concentrated on watching Carmilla as she spoke. The brunette’s eyes were soft, though refusing to leave the direction of the ceiling to meet Laura’s intense gaze. Her voice was hushed, almost a whisper, as if she were scared of her words taking on life in the cell if she gave them too much power. On top of the pillow, her fingers were rubbing against each other in a nervous fidget.

 **“** I used to love doing it. **”** Carmilla’s words were blunt, so cuttingly candid that Laura had to work hard not to look surprised or affronted. ‘Used’ was the only important word in the sentence. **“** Mattie and I would finish our tasks and beyond. Was always a good way to have a snack before the new feeding laws came into place. **”** Laura ached to ask how old Carmilla was (and to hear thousands more of her stories, of the history that is her own), but knew it wasn’t the time to interrupt. **“** But someone -- something happened. Something changed. So Mother had to be more creative, invent better incentives to make me do her bidding. **”**

An alleyway. A vampire handing another vampire blood out of sight. A fear of being caught out. Suddenly, the first time Laura laid eyes on Carmilla, and the circumstances around it, made a lot more sense.

 **“** I fought back more this time. I really did. **”** Finally, Carmilla’s eyes met Laura’s, and the human’s heart ached to the point of breaking when she saw the earnest look in them. She gave a dry laugh before continuing, hugging the pillow tighter in her arms. **“** If it isn’t obvious, that isn’t always enough. **”**

Carmilla’s eyes were searching, imploring, now. Like a child seeking validation, Carmilla was looking at Laura as if she could solve her problems - solve the multitude of problems she’d been going through for longer than Laura could imagine. It was a heavy task, so heavy it could crush her. Laura was willing and ready to take it on.

She moved slowly so Carmilla would have time to move away from her, and couldn’t hide the relief in her eyes when she didn’t. She placed both hands on top of Carmilla’s, running the pad of her thumb over coarse skin. **“** Carmilla, **”** she started soft, matching the pitch the vampire had spoken with, but with a confidence boldening her quiet words. **“** We didn’t exactly meet under the most conventional of circumstances. **”** Carmilla laughed at that, some of the tension in her arms dissipating as her embrace of the pillow relaxed. **“** So if you ever think I would... _run away_ after recent revelations? That wouldn’t be me. I want you-- **”**

Laura paused, overwhelmed by all the sensations flooding through her veins. Carmilla sucked in a small intake of breath, so quiet Laura’s human’s ears missed it. Laura cleared her throat, realising she never finished voicing her thoughts.

 **“** I want you to help me finish this. We can do it together. I understand why you did what you did. You’re the victim here too. You don’t need to explain anything to me. **”**

She had only been alive for less than two decades. Carmilla had seen empires rise and monarchs fall. She had lived through centuries at the very least. She had watched the change in Silas happen before her eyes - probably had a part to play in it if she was calling the Mayor of the city ‘Mother’. Her mortal, limited mind would never understand the look Carmilla was giving her right now - could never realise that in all her centuries of living, no one had ever told her they understand why she did it. Not even Elle. No one had resisted running from the monster.

Laura had never seen a monster.

Neither realised when their postures changed: Carmilla was propped up on her elbows, neck stretching to bring her closer to Laura, whose face was hovering over hers, hands moving from the pillow to place themselves at either side of Carmilla’s body. In that dorm room, time stopped. There was no werewolf panting against the glass, or kidnapped girls watching them from across the room. There was only heartbeat and faint pulse, fear and excitement, Carmilla and Laura.

Just as one of them - both of them - were about to close the centimetre between them, the door to the room was kicked open, and twelve kevlar-clad men with specialised predator weapons (not needed for decades, but kept in stock nonetheless) were storming the warehouse. Laura jumped away from Carmilla, propelling herself to the opposite side of the room, trying not to be annoyed at the very poor timing of the rescue squad. The pair watched with wide eyes, feigning innocence as best as they could, as the officers incapacitated the escaped creatures, sliding gas pellets under the other glass doors to knock out the remaining predators. Stretchers were being brought in - Kirsch had followed every instruction Laura sent when she realised she should probably warn the SPD what they were storming in to - and kidnapped-girls turned savage-hunters were being carted away to the nearest hospital. Doctors and nurses would spend hours prodding and poking, trying to find out what exactly could cause such a reversal in adaptorial genetic history.

Neither girl spoke, allowing the sounds of shouts and snarls and orders to replace the thick tension building up between them. Laura refused to let her mind dwell on the fact that they almost kissed, because she knew if she let herself do that for even a moment, she wouldn’t be able to leave the dorm room (out of mortification, desperation, _need_ for the ‘almost’ to disappear).

After what felt like an eternity, Kirsch approached their cell, telling them it was safe to come out now with an incredibly wide, dopey grin on his face. Laura looked at Carmilla, cheeks flushed and eyes glinting. Carmilla nodded, and they opened the door together.

They walked out of the compound the same way they walked in: holding hands.

 

* * *

 

As soon as they left the building, they were attacked by flashing lights and microphones being shoved into their faces. Carmilla growls - an actual, cat-like growl - as a reporter gets close enough to Laura to make her stumble backwards on her feet, caught by superhuman reflexes. The vampire was about to yell something, Laura could sense it - something obscene and threatening, most likely - but before she could protest the unspoken insults, three red heads were approaching her, pushing their way through the crowd.

Danny got the crowd to move back somehow, whilst Perry began to speak to the reporters at the front, voice both soothing and authoritative. Laura frowned, not having realised that Kirsch would have told the press about finding the girls before the recovery had been completed successfully. Then again, Kirsch and Danny were close - perhaps she should have expected this greeting party.

 **“** Frosh! **”** Lafontaine rushed over to the pair, nodding at Carmilla with a grin. **“** I never doubted you at all, **”** they winked, fist-bumping Laura. Noticing the intern’s silence, Laf realised that this probably wasn’t the smartest place or time to hold a press conference - it was Perry’s idea. As soon as Danny ran into the office, relaying what Kirsch had just texted her about Laura, the CEO of Silas Voice knew that if they didn’t act fast, a competing newspaper would break the story, and they’d have wasted a plethora of resources for months. **“** Sorry about all this, **”** Lafontaine grimaced, gesturing behind them at the crowd. **“** Everyone wants to talk to the human who found fourteen missing girls after being an intern for two days. **”**

It was like it only just then hit Laura what had happened. She had moved to the city of her dreams, and when people tried to force her out of the narrative, she wrote her own. She wrote Carmilla into it too. She grinned, unable to stop a burst of laughter which bubbled out of her mouth. Lafontaine looked confused. Carmilla revelled in the sound.

 **“** Tell Perry I need a minute, **”** Laura conceded once her hilarious outbreak was mostly finished, turning to face Carmilla once Laf had nodded and walked back over to their friend. Carmilla had an eyebrow raised, clearly unsure as to why Laura was avoiding the media. She pushed her hands into her jacket’s pockets, tilting her head as if to urge Laura to speak whatever thought it was that was currently plaguing her mind.

Laura sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face as she tried to articulate herself (which was always difficult when faced with a certain sexy, smart, leather-clad vampire). **“** I wasn’t lying when I told Mayor Morgan I wouldn’t mention her name, **”** she started, twiddling her thumbs so as to have something other than the girl _she almost kissed_ to look at. **“** I can’t do that without evidence and without jeopardising you and the other victims. **”** So focused on her thumbs, Laura entirely missed the sudden tender look that overtook Carmilla’s cool expression, continuing as if she hadn’t affected the brunette’s very soul with her protective instincts. **“** So how do I explain all of _this_ without that? How can I explain anything? **”**

Carmilla smiled, abandoning the inner-lining of her jacket to place a hand on Laura’s shoulder, catching strands of hair in her fingers slightly. **“** Just speak from the heart, cupcake. Seems to have worked in your favour up until now. **”**

_The girl you almost kissed is touching you. The girl who almost kissed you is smiling at you. The girl you almost kissed is being kind to you. The girl who almost kissed you is -- laughing at you?_

**“** Laura. I think they’re waiting. **”** Oh. Laura chuckled sheepishly, squeezing Carmilla’s wrist in thanks before moving over to where Perry had assembled the reporters. She breathed in deep, letting the air and her worries and her passing adrenaline fill her lungs.

She let it all out, and spoke.

Her summary of what happened was brief, yet detailed in the ways which were important. She made sure to mention all the kidnapped girls by name, and explain that although they were taken into police custody, it was for their own safety - she could only imagine how many relatives of the missing girls were watching the news, hearing their daughter’s or sister’s of friend’s name mentioned after hearing nothing for so long. Carmilla’s name remained absent from the account, though Laura wished she could tell everyone how she couldn’t have done it without the brooding vampire currently standing out of sight from the flashing cameras.

Perry decided that Laura could handle a few questions, and Laura had to hide her shock that the same woman who tried to fire her for doing something other than make coffee was now encouraging her to speak to all the major news outlets in the country. Perhaps she knew most questions would have to be brushed off anyway - _Who is responsible for the kidnappings? Do the SPD have any suspects in custody? How long until the victims can return home?_ Laura didn’t have all the answers, but for the people watching her speak, longing to hear when their loved one would be returned to them, she wished she did.

The last question was from a reporter Laura knew from watching the news late at night at home - Vordenberg was notorious for his controversial coverage of news stories, especially for the way in which he painted certain minority species. **“** Miss Hollis, are there any current theories as to what caused the kidnapped predators to return to such savage roots? **”** He spoke confidently, clearly aware of the answer already ( _‘No, but the police and their research team are doing everything to ensure the girls’ safety_ ’), but wanting to take advantage of speaking to a girl with no experience of answering questions under pressure.

Laura frowned slightly, blinking furiously as several cameras flashed at once. She looked at the crowd, at the numerous expectant faces, and she thought of Betty Spielsdorf’s family. They deserved answers - even if they weren’t concrete facts yet. They needed something.

It’s what Laura would have wanted, every time she asked an adult what had happened to her mother.

 **“** Nothing’s certain right now, but yes, there are theories. Forensics are working under the assumption that the girls have been drugged with something, **”** she started, remembering the tidbits of information Kirsch had relayed to her as he escorted them out of the warehouse. **“** It’s important to remember all of the victims come from a lineage of predators. It’s possible that if there is a drug, this drug played on something already in their DNA. A hidden trait that’s been buried through conditioning and adaptation, but is still there. **”**

Perry had made it clear that was the last question, but Laura’s improvised words caused an uproar. Microphones were being waved in her face again, and Kirsch had to intervene and make a closing statement to satiate the crowd, everyone asking the same question: how do we know more predators in the city won’t turn savage too?

Adrenaline from the night completely wearing off, Laura allowed the next moments to pass in a blur: she turned down an offer of a lift home from Danny, Perry and Laf, who needed to get back to the office to get the next issue printed, and watched Kirsch direct the remaining reporters off of the parking lot. Laura allowed herself to absorb the welcome silence (the ringing in her ears from the mist having finally stopped, her head closer to clear than when she woke up that morning), before walking over to where Carmilla was standing, obscured from people’s view.

She couldn’t stop smiling. For the first time since she left home, Laura found herself _wanting_ to phone her dad and tell him all the dangerous things she had gotten up to, if only to prove to him that all her hard work for years was worth it after all. Her smile widened as she bounded over to Carmilla, rocking onto the tips of her toes as she came to a halt in front of her. The adrenaline may have worn off, but the pride pulsing through her veins was giving her the same sense of courage she needed right now.

 **“** So, I was wondering if I could give you the pen recording over a cup of coffee? **”** She smiled, looking up at Carmilla from under her eyelashes, cheeks pinking slightly from both sheepishness at asking the vampire she blackmailed on a coffee date, and from the cold wind biting at her skin. Memories of their almost-kiss marathoned through her mind each time she saw the vampire’s peach lips, and her fingers felt cold without Carmilla’s own between them.

A low scoff and frown marked on the brunette’s face wasn’t the response Laura was expecting. Her heart beat slowed to a point where she feared it had stopped altogether. **“** I - are you okay? **”** she asked, voice audibly more timid. Only now did she realise Carmilla’s posture had changed - her arms were crossed over her body, as if protecting herself, just like when she held the yellow pillow from the cell tightly to her chest.

 **“** Am I okay? **”** Carmilla snarled, and Laura flinched backwards at the foreign venom in her tone. **“** Why don’t you tell me, sweetheart? You’re the resident DNA expert, after all. **”**

Laura frowned, trying hard to remember how exactly she had answered Vordenberg’s question, trying to find the phrase she used which caused the icy change in her partner. **“** Carm, you know I don’t think of _you_ like a predator. You’re a -- you’re a hero. You’re not like other vampires. **”**

She smiled as she spoke, her words earnest. Carmilla was a hero - _her_ hero. She was nothing like the images of vampires plastered across the media or police stations. Nothing like the ‘villains’ Vordenberg spent his segments yelling profanities about. She was Carmilla. Sarcastic, brooding, flirtatious, feisty, heroic Carmilla.

But the person in front of her now was just a reflection of the hero she’d been getting to know for the past week. Just a carbon copy of the girl she had been falling far, stripped of all her redeeming values.

 **“** You don’t know me at all, then, **”** the vampire laughed, and Laura’s eyes widened when she saw her fangs were out again. Carmilla noticed the change in the human’s expression, covering up the crippling sadness at Laura fearing her with a smirk. **“** Better run along, Creampuff. You’re not safe around predators. Who knows when my hidden, savage trait might emerge. **”**

Laura couldn’t move. She was frozen to the spot, one hundred questions and pleas and thoughts racing through her mind. Limbs hung useless by her side, no longer willing to grab onto something that didn’t want her touch, didn’t want her presence. Stuck there, standing outside an abandoned building in the bitter cold, Laura had to watch as Carmilla - the same Carmilla who just half an hour before was holding her hand, then leaning up to meet her lips - walked away from her, not looking back at the human she left behind. She mounted the motorcycle they rode on together effortlessly. A lump rose in Laura’s throat. That had been _their_ bike. Back when all Laura wanted to do was find Betty. Back when all Carmilla wanted was someone who didn’t fear her, who would never see her as a monster, who would want her for who she was.

Before starting the engine, Carmilla picked the helmet up off of the handlebars and threw it behind her, a short expulsion of anger that she couldn’t conceal, before driving away. The helmet rolled, only stopping as it collided with Laura’s shoe.

She squeezed her eyes shut, escaping tears hitting the visor before sinking down to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next time. Who knows when that will be.
> 
> [[find me on tumblr @lauratothelettter !! if you see me on there, tell me to get tf off and revise!!]]


	10. we walk in shadows (monsters lead me home)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exposition, exposition, exposition! Laura begins to understands the mechanisms behind the kidnapping of the girls, and with it realises that she needs to win Carmilla over again - for her own sake, as well as for Silas.

**_“_** It’s possible that if there is a drug, this drug played on something already in their DNA. A hidden trait that’s been buried through conditioning and adaptation, but is still there. **”**

Vordenberg was playing the clip of Laura’s impromptu interview on the hour; from the moment it aired he had a panel of experts ready to give confirming comments to the propaganda he’d been waiting to spew. He was firing his words at all predatory creatures, but vampires above all - his preconceptions that vampires should be living in their own city, barred off from the population they could easily drink dry in one sitting, was gaining more traction than ever.

Carmilla watched his news segment in Mattie’s apartment, sunglasses on to dull the overbearing glow the television was giving off (it had been a few decades since she last had a blood-induced hangover like this). She scoffed at his words, but couldn’t quite take her eyes off of the images on the screen. Off of Laura, repeating the words that made her realise what she was too irrevocably _stupid_ to not understand in the first place: no one will ever trust a vampire to be anything but a monster.

Unable to stare into honey-brown eyes for one moment longer, she flipped the channel. Another news station was showing video footage of the riots which had happened in the town centre earlier in the day - protesters marching to town hall, wanting to know how the Mayor was planning to cut back predatory violence in her city. Carmilla laughed at the irony, turning the channel once more.

A popular sitcom was on reruns again. With nothing else to do, Carmilla resigned herself to watching it until Mattie finally got back, sipping on the blood she found in the fridge through a straw. There wasn’t a single human in the cast. The one vampire in the show was an aggressive male, never not seen without a blood bag in his hand and droplets on his chin.

Anger blinding her for a moment, Carmilla threw the remote at the screen, putting all of her anger and disappointment and regret into the one single action, only able to release some of the centuries worth of pent-up resentment as the screen turned black. The brunette was left with nothing to see but her reflection in the cracked glass: bottle of blood in hand and droplets painting her lips.

Maybe she was the hypocrite. Offended by an image she herself reflected. Hating the idea of someone typecasting her but revelling in the sight of Laura recoiling away from her fangs. Wanting to be different but too afraid to start.

 Maybe things were better, easier, when people feared the vampire.

 

* * *

 

 ** _“_** It’s possible that if there is a drug, this drug played on something already in their DNA. A hidden trait that’s been buried through conditioning and adaptation, but is still there. **”**

Laura had listened to her own words on a loop, contributing to a good fraction of the views the interview had on the internet. The first four views she was still clouded by a haze of confusion and annoyance at Carmilla walking away from her - leaving as if the past few days meant nothing. Once the blinding emotions had cleared, however, she began to understand her words.

Her whole life had been about other people labelling her, forcing definitions onto a child who didn’t know what they meant. They called her weak, vulnerable, out of place. Her father wore his labels like a badge. Laura burnt hers and wrote her own narrative in the dim glow of her laptop, late at night where no one was around to stop or belittle her. She had never let the typecasting get to her - had always risen above it - but that didn’t mean she never resented it. Every individual in her hometown, humans and non-humans alike, had become her biggest enemies and her biggest obstacles in achieving anything more out of her life than what was prescribed for her.

As she boarded the train to Silas, she promised she wouldn’t make anyone else feel like that, no matter what. It was the same promise her mother would make her commit to every time she came home from school with a new bruise or battle story. It was the same promise she repeated in her head as she allowed every person she met to be a blank slate: filled in only by what they did and who they were beyond the arrangement of their genes.

It was the same promise she broke when she made assumptions she had no authority to make. Assumptions that went against every rule of responsible reporting she learnt at school. Assumptions which hurt the person she wanted in her life more than anyone.

When Carmilla walked away, Laura wanted so badly to blame her. To say it was her plan all along, that she was still in league with the Mayor after all. It would be lying, though. And Laura knew that.

Fear-mongering often has no empirical evidence. It’s what the people standing up to the bigoted views and the unprecedented prejudices count on. But by standing at a makeshift podium in front of representatives from every major news station, Laura gave Vordenberg the video clip he needed to take his hateful views from controversial reporting to _just reporting_.

Laura watched the news clip of herself again, saw her name in the title, and wanted to erase every aspect of herself from the internet. She heard her phone buzzing, no doubt from her father again, telling her he had the whole family over to watch her on the television, and she wanted to block his number. She listened to faint shouts on the streets, remnants of the day’s riots, people screaming at people who had never seen another city to go back to the cave or forest or swamp they came from, and Laura wanted to run into the town centre herself, beg them to stop.

She looked at the documents on her apartment desk, details of the permanent job offer Perry had made two days after the Silas Voice released the article on the kidnappings, hinting at a local government conspiracy theory. It was what she had wanted from the day she was taught to make coffee in the basement - a new story, albeit small, for her to cover. A byline just for the intern.

But all Laura could think about was how she saw Danny leave Perry’s office the day before, eyes sad but body refusing to give up its confident stance. Laura had approached her, hand moving reflexively to the red-head’s elbow to ask her what’s wrong. Hearing Danny tell her how she wasn’t allowed access to a CEO’s private function because he banned photographers who were ‘high-risk predators’ broke her heart for the second time in a seven-day period. When she visited Kirsch later in the day to thank him for all he’d done for them, only to find his desk had been moved after he was demoted from missing persons, she went home and threw up.

Finally closing the video with her stupid, _stupid_ mistake playing on a loop, Laura finished off her email to Perry, before shutting down her computer altogether: something she couldn’t afford to do when she had all of her Betty-research on there, and Carmilla sitting at the desk throughout it all.

Her phone rang again. Laura still felt empty, still felt guilty, still felt like maybe the world would have been better off if she confined to the labels she was given at birth. She picked up the phone, holding it to her cheek like it was a lifeline. In so many ways it was.

 **“** Hi, dad? Yeah, yeah, I know. I - would it be okay if I came home for a while? **”**

 

* * *

 

Laura was grateful for her dad. She couldn’t not be - there weren’t any other single fathers in their hometown, and whilst the population of humans was above average, raising a rebellious daughter who somehow attracted trouble after your wife leaves you without a trace? Not an easy task.

That being said, being home for even a few hours was reminder enough of why Laura had spent her whole life ensuring she would be able to leave as soon as she finished school. The pastel blue walls of her childhood bedroom were closing in on her: posters of favourite bands and TV characters getting closer, laughing as they reminded her of all her mistakes.

(Like she wasn’t doing enough of that herself.)

Just like when she was a thirteen year old, revelling in teenage angst in the comfort of her twin bed, her dad was coming upstairs periodically to check on her. Usually the sight of his daughter back in his house, wearing the same Doctor Who pajamas she always did, would bring him more joy than anything else in the world could. The perpetual frown on her face and storm in her eyes ruined it, however. It figured that Laura couldn’t even do the one thing he wanted - giving up and coming home, tail between her legs - right either.

Still, he let her be. He filled her mug with more hot chocolate than is healthy to consume, and indulged her sweet tooth without any lectures on immunity or cavities or chemical contamination. But after three days of moping and brooding, even patient, caring Sherman Hollis had had enough.

 **“** Laura, honey. You’re coming with me to the market today. We can pick out something nice for dinner. **”**

 **“** \--Hmmph? **”** was her garbled reply, head half buried under her pillow and limbs covered in two knitted blankets (projects from when she thought knitting was her calling; before she discovered trampolining and then swimming and then kickboxing and then crocheting - never sticking with one of them). The only sign that she wasn’t asleep was her hand moving to protest the sudden stream of sunlight in the room - Sherman had yanked back the white curtains with small butterflies fluttering across the material.

 _Maybe if I lay still he’ll just leave._ Laura did feel bad at the thought fleeting across her mind - after all, she was the grown woman lazing around in her childhood bedroom. Her father didn’t need to wait on her, and he certainly didn’t deserve to deal with her when she was in this state. But the idea of going outside when the possibility that someone out there will recognise her from the clip - approach her and commend or condemn her for her words - was enough to want to stay hidden.

She really should have realised that her father was too stubborn to let her get away with that.

 **“** Oh, I see. You thought I was giving you a choice. Come on, pumpkin. We need to beat the crowd, **”** he continued as if she wasn’t blatantly ignoring him, maintaining a cheerful tone but pulling the blankets off of her with a look on his face which definitely meant she shouldn’t even _try_ to argue with him.

He’d never let her engage in unhealthy coping mechanisms when she was a child. It was a strange comfort that he didn’t let her do it now.

 **“** Since when did you start going to farmer’s markets? **”** She was sitting upright on the bed, supported by an abundance of decorative pillows, wondering when her father had stopped living off of tinned soups and microwave meals. **“** I didn’t think you’d ever cook a vegetable again after I left. **”**

The chuckle her dad let out at that made her feel like she’d finally achieved something positive that week - the little nudge she needed to finally leave her blankets of security and find some clean, not-slept-in clothes to change into. **“** Someone opened my eyes to the wonders of fresh food, **”** he answered, the intentional vagueness causing Laura’s eyebrows to raise to her hairline in growing curiosity. **“** I’ll leave you to get dressed. Be down in five. **”**

Throwing all fashion sensibility to the wind - anyone at the market at this hour would definitely be locals who saw her go through every teenage phase there was, so there wasn’t really any face left to save - Laura grabbed mismatched items of clothing and hurried to put them on. Maybe some fresh air would help.

But there was no way her dad was going to feed her kale.

 

* * *

 

As expected, the farmer’s market was filled with familiar faces. Laura was all for supporting local businesses, but when you’re forced to see your first grade teacher, your old next-door neighbour, an ex-best friend and an old classroom nemesis all in the space of thirty-five minutes? You begin to wonder whether just going to a supermarket would have been more worth it.

And then she saw him. The man who attacked her in the alleyway, and stabbed Carmilla.

She tried to stay calm and not tense up - the likelihood that he’d strike again in broad daylight and in front of every elderly lady in the village was low, after all. Still, Laura refused to take her eyes off of him, trying to work out why his dark irises and practised scowl were more familiar than they should be.

 **“** Oh, look, honey! It’s Mrs Alvarez! You remember her, right? She was a god-send those nights I had to work late and couldn’t get-- Laura? **”** So focused on tracking the man’s movements, her dad’s ramblings had fallen on deaf ears. His gentle pull on her arm brought her back to the present, and she reluctantly let the man fall from her gaze.

His eyebrows were pulled together, concern etched across his face in a way that reminded her all too much of her childhood. **“** Sorry. I just...thought I saw someone. **”** At her explanation Sherman immediately turned his own gaze to where she was looking; the man hadn’t moved, still standing in line for what looked like hand-picked blueberries. **“** Oh. **”** All ease completely left her father’s expression, growing worry and a hint of anger flashing in his eyes. **“** Of course. **”**

As far as ambiguous sentences went, her father sure was using a lot of them today. For the second time since he woke her up, Laura found herself frowning at his words, trying to make a connection between her unknown attacker and a person her dad would be wary of. **“** Um, do you know him or something? You’ve got your -- you know. Your frowny face. **”** She accompanied her question with an exaggerated grimace; a futile tactic to lighten the mood she didn’t mean to dampen again.

It was Sherman’s turn to frown in retort. They moved simultaneously, now facing the man, throwing all subtlety and caution to the wind. **“** Laura, that’s Theo Straka. **”**

Theo Straka. Her breath left her lungs in one overwhelming gush, and a thousand thoughts ran through her head, bouncing off of the walls of her mind. Theo Straka. The boy who, as a child, had attacked her and bitten her. The boy who started her father’s protective streak (or at least amplified it). The reason she was given bear spray to put in her school bag, in her overnight bag, in her suitcase and in the boxes she took to university. The vampire she always feared.

The same person who followed her into an evidence locker, knocked her down and picked her up, trying to crush the breath from her throat to silence her. The same person who stabbed Carmilla, was left unconscious on the ground, but managed to disappear.

Laura’s fingers ghosted across the now-invisible bite mark from her childhood, and the slowly-fading bruises on her throat from her most recent adventure.

What was Theo Straka - a schoolground bully turned fists-for-hire - doing back in their hometown, buying blueberries at a farmer’s market?

The man in question finished his transaction, and, picking up his sack of produce, began to make his way towards the pair. Laura snapped her head away, casting her eyes down as if that would stop him from recognising her. Sherman stared straight on, never having gotten over what he had done to his only child.

As Straka walked past, head high and strides long, Laura caught the flash of something on his chest. Curiosity taking over her survival instincts as she turned slowly, just as his shoulder was adjacent to his, she caught sight of the badge pinned to his shirt. He didn’t notice the eyes on him, and carried on walking away.

The stream of thoughts flooding her mind calmed, the waves slowing as things began to fall into place. After her argument with Carmilla, and the fact that all the girls had made it to the hospital became known, Laura had stopped analysing the case. She didn’t question _why_ the Mayor wanted the girls, didn’t question _how_ they were turned to such savage instincts, and didn’t question how wide the conspiracy might be.

The badge proudly displayed on Theo’s chest - a white pin with the bold, red words ‘ **VOTE MORGAN** ’ dancing across it - seemed to answer most of her questions for her.

Laura’s will to hide away in bed and pretend the last few weeks didn’t happen disappeared immediately. Passing her bags of vegetables to her dad in a sudden movement and grinning, she knew exactly what was needed of her - exactly how to atone for her mistakes.

 **“** You know what, I’m going to head back home. I have some researching to do. **”**

 

* * *

 

Four hours, five cans of grape soda and a whole packet of cookies later, things started to make sense.

Laura knew Lilita Morgan had to have had more of a motive than pure, unadulterated _evil_ for kidnapping those girls and doing _something_ to mess with their minds. She just hadn’t known where to start looking; that was, until a connection had been made between an assailant who wanted to stop Laura from exposing the story, and someone who supported the Mayor’s reelection campaign.

The polls weren’t too hard to find. Whilst she had the highest approval rating her first year in office than any other Mayor of Silas had before, the numbers only went downhill from there. New programmes were introduced that were beyond popular - her creature inclusion programme, budgets being expanded to refurbish the schools in the area, funding for research into interspecies creatures - but the Mayor herself couldn’t seem to make herself more attractive as the years passed. Her opponents were younger, with fresher ideas - and they didn’t have the smell of scandal on them, as Lilita could never escape. Of course, she was never charged with the things she was accused of - most of them having to do with supposed illegal trades being made with government funds - but being a (still unspecified) predator with immense power could only cause fear.

That was, until the first girl went missing. Mayor Morgan visited the family, helped organise search parties in her own time, and donated large amounts to the charities trying to help. And then the second girl went missing, and Mayor Morgan invited the parents to dine with her and made a televised appeal to the perpetrator to bring them home safe. Soon, fourteen girls were gone, and Mayor Morgan was walking on the streets with the lost girls’ families and friends, holding a candle in her hand and leading the march.

Her numbers began to climb.

With the election drawing closer every day, Lilita was no longer in troubled waters. Her opponents were still popular and attractive, but unable to make their efforts in helping the victim’s families as public, their voices began to grow quieter. Lilita, on the other hand, was louder each passing day.

The same day that Laura and Carmilla had found the girls in her possession, the Mayor visited their bedsides - reports said she was warned to stay back since they were still highly volatile, but the leader of Silas had been brave enough to care more about her citizens than her own safety.

Laura scoffed at the irony of it all.

After the first protests against predator violence had taken place, Morgan made an appeal for peace which gathered almost one million views online. She urged people to donate to research being made to cure the girls of whatever unknown illness had infected them, and persuaded the people - she was always _so good_ at persuading the people - that whatever it was, was neither contagious nor deadly.

The numbers continued to rise, and it was close to being certain that she would be reelected for another term. Her competition wasn’t close behind, however; Lilita wasn’t entirely safe.

But then the news dropped.

Laura would have known the minute it had happened, had she not turned off all news alerts on her phone. Even the texts she got from friends at Silas to tell her about it went missed, thanks to airplane mode. It wasn’t until she began to research on her old laptop in her old bedroom that she learnt what caused Lolita Morgan’s poll numbers to rise to (politically speaking) impossible levels.

It was the Silas Voice that had broke the news; the Morgan campaign had used all of its resources to help fund research, and the night before, a vaccine of some sort had been used on three of the girls. After an hour of unconsciousness, they all woke up as they were before they were taken - no savage instincts, no overwhelming desire to use their powers, and no memories of anything that had happened during their time away.

And just like that, everything was wrapped up with a neat little bow.

Except Laura knew better. Whilst the article read that Morgan expressed relief at the girls being found, Laura knew that really her plans had been foiled. Whilst the article read that only three antidotes were used because the other parents weren’t willing to consent to it until they had been proven to be safe, Laura knew the more likely answer was that more than three batches weren’t ready yet. After all, if Morgan’s plan was to paint herself as the hero and secure her position in Silas, then she was always going to release the girls - Laura just fast tracked the process.

The election was in less than a week, and families and friends of the fourteen kidnapped girls, along with anyone else glad to see a happy resolution to the past week of chaos, was going to head to the voting booths and neatly check the box for a corrupt politician and criminal. One who used the girls as pawns to fuel hatred in her city, and then stop the fire she started out of selfishness and cruelty.

And Laura was the only one who knew better.

Besides Carmilla.

Carmilla, who likely knew the Mayor’s plans all along, but sometime during their partnership decided to help Laura instead of hindering her. Carmilla, who fought Straka and the possessed girls with her, always by her side. Carmilla, who stood by as Laura suggested it was the girls’ own fault - something in their DNA that they couldn’t help - and let Lilita Morgan get away with everything.

Two days ago, she was ready to surrender, and go back to being the little human that wrote small articles in the back page of unread newspapers. Today, she wasn’t giving up without more of a fight.

Laura was going home to Silas - to the place she _really_ belonged. And she was going to find Carmilla, who made her feel like she belonged more than anyone else ever had.

And she was going to fix everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd ask if you think Carmilla is going to forgive Laura or not, but we all know the deal - that girl is smitten, even if she is rightfully angry at the moment. Tune in next time to see our favourite pair figure out how to take down Mayor Morgan (and maybe discovering something about their own relationship along the way...)
> 
> [[find me on tumblr @lauratothelettter]]


	11. go ahead and watch my heart burn (with the fire that you started in me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from a song by billy eilish. listen to her song 'ocean eyes' and cry.

The first time Laura met Carmilla was an easy, wonderful coincidence. She was fighting with a coffee machine, Carmilla was buying illegal blood; not exactly a meet-cute, but a special one nonetheless.

Trying to find Carmilla a second time was a lot harder.

Laura had tried the first thing that came to her mind; go to the shady building with the shady basement. Even if Carmilla wasn’t there, she might find Mattie, who definitely would be able to point her in her direction. Problem was, the building had been taken over for the Morgan campaign in the days leading up to the election - and considering their last meeting, Laura couldn’t quite risk running into the beloved Mayor.

The next - and last - plan was to wait in the alleyway of their first meeting. It was a long shot, but Laura hadn’t seen Carmilla drink from a blood bag since the first time she saw the vampire, and it was unlikely Morgan had agreed to feed her again. Mattie did seem too smart to use the same drop-off location after Laura caught them so easily last time, but she was running out of options here; both vampires kept up their mysterious auras by having no online presence, much to Laura’s frustration, and Carmilla had never given her her phone number.

Laura laughed at herself lightly. She basically fell in love with the girl, but doesn’t even have her number.

Not that she was in love Carmilla! That would be ridiculous; they hadn’t known each other that long, she only agreed to help Laura under dubious circumstances, not to mention that she definitely did not want to see the tiny human ever again.

But she still saved Laura’s life, twice. She still betrayed the Mayor to help Laura and her helpless investigation. She’s still the most beautiful person Laura has ever seen in her life.

And her eyes when Laura had said what she said -- she was shocked. She hadn’t wanted to leave like she did. Maybe she was going to stay - continue seeing Laura, as friends instead of forced-partners. Before Laura ruined any chance of that.

Laura had never wanted anything more than for those chances not to be ruined. She wanted that friendship. She wanted to meet up in coffee shops and talk about their day and laugh and have movie nights and fall asleep together on the couch and wake up entwined like when Carmilla slept over the other week and to have almost kisses, non-interrupted kisses, their first kisses.

(Oh. Maybe she didn’t want to be _just_ friends.)

(But she would never admit that out loud.)

 

* * *

 

**“** Oh, Poppet. This is a really good way to get yourself killed. **”**

Laura was startled out of her sleep by a rough shake on her shoulder. It took her a few seconds to get used to her surroundings - she was sitting on top of the lid of a dumpster, slumped against the brick wall behind her. It wasn’t quite night-time yet, but it was getting dark. She must have dozed off while waiting for Carmilla to show and - _wow_ , her visitor was right. What a way to get killed. Falling asleep on a bin in a dark alleyway known for criminal activity.

Her dad would be so proud.

**“** \-- or kidnapped. I hear local gangs are in need of a new sacrifice since all their goats ran away. I suppose you could volunteer if you’re that desperate, **”** the woman who woke her continued. Laura shook her head in an attempt to wake herself up properly. The voice was familiar, but surely she couldn’t be that lucky.

Except she was. After a terrible week of self-loathing, a realisation that the government of her new home was corrupt, and a train journey full of screaming children (meaning she hadn’t slept in over a day, until her impromptu alleyway nap), Laura was finally getting some good luck.

**“** Mattie! I am so glad to see you here. Uhm, I don’t know if you remember me, but-- **”**

She was cut off when Mattie quirked her eyebrow up, placing her hand on her hip in an enviable power-stance. **“** Oh, I remember you. The little ingénue who broke my sister’s heart. **”**

Oh. Laura gulped, trying to maintain a poker face. It probably wouldn’t clear the storm from Mattie’s expression to show that her words hurt her. She was in the wrong here, after all.

**“** Right. Yes. About that, **”** she started nervously, jumping down from the dumpster in attempt to save at least some pride before she started begging. **“** I know what I did was wrong. Trust me. But I -- I need to see Carmilla. I need her. _ **"**_

Laura was surprised Mattie was letting her continue speaking. Perhaps this was some kind of sadistic entertainment for her - watch a human plead at her feet before making her into a snack.

**“** It’s not just because I figured everything out. I mean, I _do_ need her help with that, but if she doesn’t want to - which, I mean, she probably won’t, and that’s fine - then I still want to see her. To apologise. But, also because...well, I need her. **”**

Her last words came out in a whisper, all confidence in her plan and herself leaving her body with each stuttered syllable. Maybe she shouldn’t have come back. Maybe she should never have --

**“** Okay. **”**

She blinked twice in surprise, taking a tentative step towards Mattie in case their distance was messing with her hearing (which made _way_ more sense than Carmilla’s (apparent) sister agreeing to help the human she must absolutely loathe for more reasons than one).

**“** What did you say? **”**

**“** I said, _okay_. If you need to see her so badly, I’ll let her know. I can’t make any promises - she’s always been incredibly stubborn. But I’ll pass your pathetic grovelling along. **”**

**“** I...thank you. **”** Laura was unable to keep the surprise out of her voice, but was too grateful to care in that moment  - she was being given the second chance she was chasing after. **“** Uhm, can I ask why you’re helping me? I’m not exactly your favourite person right now, **”** she laughed awkwardly, running a hand through her hair in an attempt to make the question seem more casual.

Mattie tilted her head slightly and pursed her lips, her gaze powerful enough to make Laura need to avert her eyes. **“** I don’t like what you did. But I think you’re the only one who can fix it. **”**

With that, the brunette flipped her hair over her shoulder, dematerialising in a cloud of black smoke. It seemed dramatic tendencies ran in the family.

It wasn’t clear what would happen next. If Mattie would be true to her word and pass the message along to her sister, or if Carmilla would listen to it with open ears. But it was a step closer, even if just a small one, and that was something to celebrate.

Laura walked back to her apartment with a smile on her face.

 

* * *

 

It was three in the morning when Laura’s sleep was interrupted yet again. She groaned out loud, grateful that she was in her own bed this time at least (though still in jeans with her laptop on her thighs - another Netflix night ended early), jolted out of her slumber by a loud succession of knocks on her door. If it was her loud fratboy neighbours on the other side, she was _so_ going to kill them.

**“** Okay, okay! **”** she yelled when the knocks didn’t stop, tripping over her own feet twice on her way to yank the door open. **“** Do you even know what time it-- oh. **”**

All anger dissipated from the air as she opened the door. Carmilla, hand raised to probably knock again, was staring at her - just as beautiful as always, despite the glare she was expertly sending Laura’s way, as if _she_ was the one waking her up at three in the morning.

**“** You’re here. **”** A mixture of sleep deprivation and genuine surprise had broken the connection from Laura’s brain to her mouth; she probably wouldn’t be able to get full, complex sentences out for a few more minutes. **“** You’re here, **”** she repeated, a smile growing on her face against her will.

Carmilla looked less amused. This wasn’t the same girl who almost kissed her in a kidnapped girl’s cell. She was defensive, snarky, and definitely didn’t want to be here; exactly as she was when they first started their partnership, based off of blackmail and lies.

Laura took in a deep breath, pushing down her overwhelming feelings of joy to focus on the situation in front of her. She wasn’t going to win Carmilla back with smiles and short sentences.

The vampire deserved more than that.

**“** Carm. Thank you for coming. I...do you want to come in? **”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I know I hinted in the last chapter that Carmilla and Laura would work things out in this chapter, but I wanted to get this shorter one in first, just to set that reconciliation off. I PROMISE that the next one will be a lot more fulfilling... ;)
> 
> If you've made it to the end of this chapter, please spend a few more minutes going over to csa.votenow.tv and vote for elise bauman! she's made it to the top three, and in just around two minutes you can vote 100 times per legitimate email and help make sure she goes home with that award! i think we all would agree that she deserves it <3
> 
> [[find me on tumblr @lauratothelettter]]


	12. everything else fades away

Laura had never felt more awkward in her life.

After Carmilla had walked - _strutted_ \- into the apartment, she had plopped herself down on Laura’s pathetic single bed, lounging as if she owned it. Laura stood frozen on the spot, paralysed by the choices in front of her. Did she sit down next to Carmilla? They’d be too close - thighs brushing, air shared. It would be too much, especially since Carmilla hadn’t turned off the death-glare since she shut the door behind her. Then there was remaining standing, but it seemed just as uncomfortable. Laura’s legs didn’t have a good track-record of not shaking around Carmilla, after all, and looming over the brunette probably wouldn’t be the best way to start off an apology.

Crossed-legged on the floor it was, then. Laura tried not to grimace a she felt a thin layer of dust be thrust into the air as the sat down. What with saving the city and all, she hadn’t had much of a chance to clean since she moved in. At this rate, she’d never get around to it.

 **“** Well, before I start--- **”**

 **“** Did you invite me here just to watch you flounder around and look cute? **”**

They spoke at the same time, a pink flush immediately covering Laura’s neck and cheeks as she looked up at Carmilla, who was quirking an eyebrow at her in response. Her seating-dilemma clearly hadn’t gone noticed. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to continue, the phrase _now or never_ pulsing through her mind.

 **“** Before I start, **”** she repeated, hand reaching into her jean pocket to retrieve her Doctor Who pen, **“** I want to -- need to give you this. I’ve deleted the recording, but I know you don’t exactly trust me right now, so. I thought it would be better for you to keep it. **”**

Carmilla caught the pen with rehearsed reflexes, but remained silent, eyes facing her lap as she turned it over in her fingers. Laura took it as a signal to continue.

 **“** I’m sorry. **”** Short and simple. Laura would be lying if she said she hadn’t practised what to say to Carmilla in front of the bathroom mirror from the moment she’d set out to find her, but doing it in person was something no one could prepare for. The air between them was thick with tension, and it made her yearn for when things we easy - _natural_ \- between them.

 **“** And I know you don’t want to hear this, but you’re here, so you’re going to. I’m sorry. What I said was ignorant. It came from a place of bias and prejudice that I didn’t even know was inside of me. But it was, and I showed you that part of me, and that is...inexcusable.

 **“** I don’t know how to prove it, but I need you to know that I’m being painfully honest right now. I’m not saying this because I want your help to stop Morgan - like I told Mattie, I would _love_ your help with that, but I know I don’t deserve it. It’s why I turned down the job offer at the paper. My words were weaponised, and even if I didn’t intend for any of this to happen, they did. And that’s my fault. **”**

She paused only to take a breath, but couldn’t stop herself from sneaking a glance at Carmilla. Her expression hadn’t changed from being unreadable and blank. Laura wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but even outbursts of anger would be better than the silent treatment.

 **“** But even though that’s all true - even though I regret what I said and did so, so much - there’s a selfish part of me that mostly regrets hurting you. I don’t know how - I don’t even know if you feel the same way - but...we _bonded_ these last few weeks. We went from reluctant partners to friends. And then in the cell, when we were waiting for the police to come, we -- I -- … I thought we were becoming more than that. **”**

Laura couldn’t bring herself to say it directly - couldn’t speak their almost kiss, their almost happy-ending into fruition, as much as she tried to force the words out. She had lost the right to be hopeful about their future when she betrayed Carmilla. She was going to have to learn to live with that (though it seemed an impossible task).

 **“** I’m not going to force you to help me against your will. I won’t ever do that again. There’s no tricks here, I just needed you to know how sorry I am. I know you’ll never forgive me, and I don’t blame you. I was irresponsible and small-minded, and now Silas’ predators are suffering because of my mistakes. I have to fix this - and I will, with or without you.

 **“** But I know you, Carm. I know you don’t want this city to fall into Morgan’s hands. I know you want to take her down as much as I do. And if you agree to help me, after we’re done, you can hate me, and that’ll be fine. Because I was a horrible friend and partner, and I hurt you...and you can walk away knowing you were right all along. That I’m really just a naive, provincial human. **”**

Feeling like she hadn’t exhaled the entirety of her speech (which definitely went off-script somewhere along the line), Laura finally let out a breath, feeling the tightness in her chest slowly ebb away. Carmilla maintained her position on the bed - stoic, silent, shining as bright as the moon. Laura couldn’t look her directly in the eye, but knew she would be orbiting her for as long as she was allowed to.

Catching a sliver of movement in the corner of her eye, Laura’s head snapped up abruptly, torn out of her spiralling thoughts by Carmilla finally showing some kind of reaction - although not the expected kind. Laura figured she’d storm out, or deliver some slicing words of her own. Instead, the vampire lifted the hand still clutching the pen, and pressed the button on its side.

**_“_ ** _I’m really just a naive, provincial human._ **_”_ **

Laura frowned, her mind still raw from getting to apologise to Carmilla, and not able to process why exactly she was hearing her own words thrown back at her. Was Carmilla mocking her? It seemed fair enough, though still tore her heart out. She was stupid to think that there was even the slightest chance that she could be forgiven, that she was worth forgiveness.

**_“_ ** _I’m really just a naive, provincial human._ **_”_ **

Her voice filled the room as Carmilla pressed the button again, but this time silence didn’t follow. Instead, a slow but certain smile repossessed Carmilla’s features, replacing the blank canvas she’d been forcing since she arrived at Laura’s apartment. Finally looking down at the human still sitting on the floor, she laughed at the sorry sight in front of her.

The chuckle was real, was whole, was perfect. Laura’s heart stopped breaking, though she dared not move, scared she would break something and what was set in motion - Carmilla pushing herself off of the bed, moving to kneel in front of Laura, discarding the pen to take warm hands into her cold ones, a perfect equilibrium - would stop, or wouldn’t be real at all.

Running a smooth thumb over the back of Laura’s hands, Carmilla’s eyes finally met her own, a stark and penetrating gaze that would have made Laura’s knees weak, were she not already sitting. For no apparent reason, she felt her cheeks redden, and only then realised that they were tear-stained. Her blush deepened at that: not only had she ripped out her heart and shown it to Carmilla, but she had cried in front of her too. A real pitiful image, she was sure.

The brunette didn’t seem to mind. Her smile became smaller, but just as potent and captivating. Her hands were wrapped around Laura’s as if that was what they were made to do, and for the first time since she had walked away, Laura got to hear her speak.

 **“** You are naive, **”** she started, laughing again when Laura opened her mouth, clearly about to protest. Sending her a look that could mean nothing but ‘ _shut up, I’m talking now’_ , Laura was happy to obey. **“** You are. But you’re trying. You’re doing more than anyone else would in your position - you’re trying to save a city that doesn’t deserve you. And it’s so...endearing. Hell, it’s beautiful. It’s beautiful the way you try. **”**

It was as if time stood still. For once in her life, Laura didn’t think through every action before she did it. She didn’t weigh up the consequences, didn’t _care_ about the consequences. She just felt.

She felt herself lean forward, one hand leaving Carmilla’s grasp to place it’s hand on her shoulder, a juxtaposition of shaking nerves and radiating confidence. She felt herself swallow when Carmilla began to lean in too. The constellations in her eyes became clearer than they’d ever been before, and Laura would have lost herself in counting them, were there not other pressing matters at hand. She felt the pads of Carmilla’s fingers close the gulf between them, wiping tears away, and dancing across her jawline, before finding solace in the nape of her neck.

Slowly, and then all at once, they pressed into each other, hip bone meeting hip bone as Laura draped herself across Carmilla, one knee on each side, locking her in. Arms snaked around waists, and asides from the boundary their clothes provided, they became one. Carmilla could feel Laura shaking, and Laura could feel Carmilla’s unnecessary breaths, hot on her cheek.

When their lips met - finally fitting together, a soft and desperate vow - everything else faded away. Laura sighed into the movement,  letting go of her trepidation and nerves to fully invest herself in the moment. She poured every part of her into touching Carmilla, yet found herself feeling whole for the first time in a long time, as she straddled her partner (her _something_ ) on the floor of her crappy apartment, one hand tangled in her hair, and the other grasping at her waist, looking for something to anchor herself on.

It was Carmilla who pulled away first, her eyes brighter than before, and her smile only widening when she saw Laura pout at the loss of contact. She brushed the look off of her face by running her thumb over her lips, and Laura could have melted on the spot if it wasn’t for Carmilla’s other hand still holding the back of her neck, keeping her in their little corner of time and space.

Her eyes were still closed, and she hummed slightly in contentment, but Carmilla’s voice cut through her hazy peace to bring her back to reality. **“** Did you really turn down a job offer at the Silas Voice? For -- because of me? **”**

Laura couldn’t help but frown at Carmilla’s question, though nodded in answer anyway. Was that what she was thinking about as they kissed? Was Laura really that bad? Sure, she was out of practise, but --

Carmilla’s lips were back on hers, and Laura responded instinctually, refusing to let her internal running commentary ruin this moment. Carmilla moaned (a soft sound that Laura felt ricochet in her bones) when Laura’s tongue brushed against her lips before pushing through them, deepening the kiss further. Laura grinned, knowing she was going to get used to this too soon - knowing she was in danger of being addicted to and intoxicated by Carmilla Karnstein, but finding she didn’t care all that much.

The city wasn’t going anywhere. The election wasn’t for another four days. They had time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note to self: please start planning your stories, because otherwise you will reread an earlier chapter and realise that you changed the name of Perry's newspaper company half way through


End file.
